Schisms
by Niels van Eekelen
Summary: Chakotay, loyal Starfleet officer, and Tom Paris, Maquis, don't get along very well, and B'Elanna Torres gets caught in the middle. Oh, yes, there's this mysterious lover of Tom's too. This is a story in an AU that splits of before Caretaker. COMPLETE
1. Grudges and Friendships

**STAR TREK: VOYAGER   
SCHISMS**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk 

An Alternate Universe adventure in four parts.

  
  


* * *

  


**GRUDGES AND FRIENDSHIPS**

  
**1**   
Captain's log, stardate 48322.7. 

It has been a little over a week since the events that pulled my ship and crew to an uncertain future in the Delta quadrant, and I have since recorded every detail of what happened in these logs, but I still strongly feel the need to talk about it. It is a great loss that there is no counselor on board Voyager; right now, we could all use one. 

It all started when the Maquis ship the "Gul's Fear," under command of captain Mirda, and also carrying my tactical officer, Mr Tuvok, who was on an undercover mission, mysteriously vanished in the Badlands. As soon as we got permission, my first officer, Cmdr Chakotay, and I took Voyager, freshly off the docks, to investigate. 

We could find no trace of the Maquis ship in the Badlands, but instead were hit unexpectedly by a displacement wave of unknown origin... I lost a lot of good people then, I'm afraid. Lt. Stadi at the Conn, my doctor, my chief engineer... Just too many good men and women. When we regained exterior sensors, Voyager was in the Delta quadrant, 70,000 lightyears from our homes and families. 

The events that occurred on the array we found there along with the Gul's Fear are not really of any importance anymore, since the Caretaker is gone, so I'll waste no more words on them, but when we were returned to our vessel, and the Maquis to theirs, we found that ensign Kim, my operations officer, was missing. 

On contacting the Maquis, I learnt from a Mr Ayala that one of their number was also missing. B'Elanna Torres, their engineer. Tuvok's reports had called her "strong-willed, a temper true to her half-Klingon blood and brilliant at her profession." To accept my offer of cooperation, Mr Ayala needed permission from someone who stayed off-screen. At the time, I wondered why captain Mirda did not speak to me himself. According to Tuvok he was a man "extremely pleased with himself" -- Tuvok even called him "illogical," which is as close to a swearword as a Vulcan will get -- but I soon learnt that he had died when the displacement wave hit the Gul's Fear. 

When the two Maquis and Mr Tuvok materialised on my bridge, I was startled. It was not captain Mirda whom I found myself facing, but Thomas Eugene Paris, the son of my former captain. Tom's face looked so much like his father's that if not for the difference in age, I might have adressed him as admiral. It was not that Tuvok hadn't mentioned Mr Paris in his reports -- quite the contrary -- but to actually see what the son of a man I respect so highly had become was quite something different from reading about it. 

Apparently I was not the only one who had reason to be displeased with Mr Paris' appearance, judging by Chakotay's reaction. It is not often that Chakotay is unable to contain his emotions. I shall have to ask him about what happened between him and Paris; if not for Mr Tuvok, I believe the two of them would actually have started a fight right there on the bridge. 

Mr Tuvok's revelation of his true mission with the Maquis did nothing to lighten Mr Paris' and Mr Ayala's moods, but at least it diverted their attention. In retrospect, with a fuller knowledge of Mr Paris' character, he took it very well. He might have looked at Tuvok like he wanted to skin him alive, but he didn't say a word about it. 

With the death of captain Mirda and the abduction of Ms Torres, Mr Paris was the highest ranking officer among the Maquis -- now, I'm not sure whether Paris or Torres ranks highest, or would, if they were still on the Gul's Fear. 

We soon turned to the matters at hand, which led to our first alien encounters in this quadrant. We met the Ocampa, a peaceful people, thankfully, with whom we found our missing crewmembers. We also met the Kazon, who -- well, suffice to say we have made no friends among the Kazon, mostly thanks to our Delta quadrant "guide," an alien called Neelix. 

Our... misunderstanding... with the Kazon ultimately forced us to battle them. No, that is not quite true. We battled them to protect the Ocampa from them. I was on the array with the dying Caretaker during most of the battle, but I have watched the sensor logs and I must say that the Maquis saved the day. Voyager was hit badly and lost her weapons systems, but the Gul's Fear kept the enormous Kazon mothership busy. And more than that. 

Mr Paris literally flew circles around the Kazon. Whatever can be said about Mr Paris -- which is a lot -- he is one heck of a pilot. Which is one of the two reasons I even allow the likes of him on my bridge. 

But ultimately even he couldn't keep it up and the Maquis ship started to disintegrate. Fortunately, Voyager was able to beam out all of the Maquis before it was too late. Also fortunately, by that time the Kazon ship was adrift and of no danger to Voyager. 

The rest, as they say, is history. I decided that the protection of the entire Ocampan species outweighed our need to get home and destroyed the array. Torres, Paris, Chakotay and I then agreed to unite our two crews -- also joined by Mr Neelix and an Ocampa called Kes -- so we can face the voyage home as one. 

A note on that last point: the merging is hard on both sides and will take a long time. There have already been several instances that might have become violent if security had not interfered. Mr Paris, now Lt Paris, is not helping very much either. The only Starfleet member of our crew he even talks to off-duty is ensign Harry Kim, and he has considerable influence among the former Maquis. 

* * *

**2**   
"Computer, end log," said Captain Janeway. She sighed. They would never make it those 70 years if the current tension kept up, but she didn't know what to do about it. Perhaps it would just fade away in time. 

A chime sounded to indicate that someone wanted to enter the ready room. The captain's last thought reverberated unpleasantly in her head while she spoke: "Enter." The door to the bridge opened and Mr Chakotay and Mr Tuvok stepped through, Chakotay's face grim, Tuvok's expressionless, perhaps even more so than usual. 

"Captain," the commander greeted, "we have another situation." 

The captain shifted uneasily. If it ever really came to blows between Starfleet and Maquis, the damage to morale might be irreparable. "What happened?" 

It was Tuvok's turn to respond. "The situation has of yet been insufficiently explained, captain, but security has just been called to your private dining room, where several crewmembers are currently arguing and threatening violence loudly." 

"Those crewmembers are both Maquis and Starfleet," Chakotay supplied. To his mind, there was little doubt who had started it. Captain Janeway very nearly smiled. Her private dining room; that would be Mr Neelix' Messhall now. Tuvok strongly disapproved of the Messhall, its location, and Mr Neelix in general. 

"Paris? Torres?" The captain stood up regretfully and started toward the bridge. She would have to go put a stop to this herself. 

"Lt Paris is at the scene, though he appears to have arrived only after the argument started. Lt Torres is currently in Engineering." 

"Have her meet me at the Messhall." She probably had as much influence on the Maquis as the captain herself had. "Mr Chakotay, you have the bridge. Mr Tuvok, you're with me." Janeway was already deep in thought when she heard Tuvok contact Lt Torres. She suspected that Paris might have caused some of the prior incidents on purpose, but if he hadn't been there when the argument started, he couldn't be responsible, could he...? 

***

When Janeway and Tuvok arrived at the Messhall, the security detail was already waiting at the door and Lt Torres just came running down the corridor. They entered together. Before the doors had opened, all that the captain and B'Elanna had been able to hear were some barely audible voices, but when they entered those voices became people yelling as hard as they could. 

Six or seven people were standing at the room's center, nearly at each others' throats. The two Maquis among them were outnumbered two to one, but that didn't seem to hold them back. A little over a dozen others were sitting at various tables, all staring, either fascinated or horrified, at the argument in process. Mr Neelix seemed to have retreated to his kitchen, from where he was watching, half-hidden behind the counter, with a mortified expression on his face. Both B'Elanna and Janeway also immediately saw Tom Paris sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. He was the only one there who had noticed the new arrivals thus far. _Why didn't you stop this?_ B'Elanna thought angrily. _Did you cause this?_ thought Janeway, not much less angry. 

"Dalby! Hiller! What in the name of Kahless do you think you're doing!" B'Elanna yelled before the captain had a chance to open her mouth. A dead silence fell over the Messhall as everybody suddenly noticed the captain's presence. The engineer didn't waste any time, though. She stalked over to the two Maquis and began berating them, repeatedly using some Klingon words that would probably better not be translated. 

The captain very nearly grimaced. This was not what she had had in mind. The immediate danger seemed to be past, though, and that was what was the most important. She walked to the Starfleeters that were involved and talked to them herself. She did not speak half as loud as Lt Torres, but the look in her eyes alone seemed to work miracles. 

"... and the captain can throw you both into the brig for all I care!" B'Elanna finished. She was furious. She didn't know which side had started it this time, but both should have known better. These near-fights always started over reasons not even a full Klingon would fight over. If they were ever to get home, this had to stop. 

"I don't think there is need to go quite that far," the captain spoke behind her. B'Elanna whirled around in surprise, she had thought the captain would still be too busy to listen to what she were saying. The five Starfleet all looked properly chastened, and, B'Elanna realised, so did Dalby and Hiller. "However," the captain spoke on to the troublemakers, "the seven of you are hereby confined to your quarters untill your next duty shift. The security officers will escort you there. Dismissed." 

Janeway looked around the Messhall as Tuvok took the arguers away. The tension in the room was still there, but that probably was mostly because she was still there. There must be _something_ that she could do to prevent this kind of situation from happening again. 

"Ms Torres, Mr Paris, I need to speak with you. In my ready room. The rest of you," she said in general, "enjoy your meals." Though judging by the smells coming from Neelix' kitchen, that would be difficult. 

Tom got up slowly, to visualise his objections as to why _he_ should come. B'Elanna noticed he looked like he hadn't bothered to go to bed the previous night. "Sure, captain," he said, "on my way immediately." 

* * *

**3**   
Captain's log, supplemental. 

After reading his file, and even after reading Tuvok's reports, I always had the feeling that there would be something of his father in Tom Paris, that I would find something better than what was described about him. Perhaps I'm just a hopeless romantic... but then again, sometimes you can just trust your instincts blindly. Hmph. I wonder what Lt Tuvok would have to say about that. 

Unfortunately I must admit that I have not seen a glimpse of that better side Mr Paris may or may not have yet. To tell the truth, what I've seen so far is just an arrogant, stubborn _man_. But a charismatic one. If I said "left" and he said "right" all of the former Maquis would probably _run_ to the right. And he would do it just to spite me and Mr Chakotay. Mr Paris' people would die for him, and I believe he would die for them. If I cannot find some way to make him see reason, this could become a very long and unpleasant trip. End log. 

***

The captain sat down in her chair and turned to the two lieutenants standing in front of her desk. Lt Torres was standing up straight, by the look on her face probably because she was wondering whether she had stepped out of line with her rather unusual way to settle the trouble in the Messhall. Lt Paris, on the other hand, looked as if he'd rather be in his bed, and like he could use it, too. 

"Let's get on with it, _captain_," Tom said irritably when Janeway remained silent. "Just blame it all on me and then I can go lie in my bed for a while." 

The captain's voice was cold as ice. "Are you saying I _should_ blame this mess on you, Mr Paris?" She had just been thinking about a way to bring up her suspicions about just that without just throwing it in Paris' face. 

Paris suddenly had a hurt look on his face. "Ma'am, why could I possibly want to start fights when I love you all so much?" 

Janeway gave him the Look. Tom knew this was exactly as far as he could go, but then, he hadn't expected more. He sighed. 

"Let me put it this way, captain, I have one hell of a headache. I messed with one of the replicators last night to get some real wine and --" 

"You actually did that?" B'Elanna interrupted Tom incredulously. 

"I think I just said that. Anyway, last night me and Ayala set out on our brave quest to rediscover what it is to be drunk, and this morning we -- or at least me -- had the good fortune to rediscover what it is to have a hangover." B'Elanna raised a hand in front of her mouth to hide her barely contained laughter. "The point being," Tom continued, "if I wanted all that noise, do you honestly believe I would have started it _now_?" 

B'Elanna realised there was no way she could hold back her laughter and thus let it go. If the captain's desk hadn't been there to bounce into, she probably would have fallen to the floor. Even the captain couldn't hold back a small smile, though, of course, what Mr Paris had done was against regulations. 

Holding his head in one hand, Tom grinned impishly. "Could you please laugh at me a little softer, B'Elanna?" 

When the chief engineer had regained her composure a minute later, captain Janeway continued their conversation. 

"I think I can indeed stop that line of thought." She'd noticed that Paris hadn't denied any previous involvement in the near state of war between the two groups of her people. "But -- what I really called you here for to talk about -- something must be done to ensure the peace on my ship. Do you at least agree on that?" 

They nodded, Paris reluctantly. 

"Good. No matter how much the two of you are both lieutenants, the Maquis still see you as some sort of captains, so you can have a major influence. If you have any ideas that might help, please tell them, because I'm at a loss." 

Actually, as the conversation progressed, most ideas came from the captain, though Torres did her best to match her. Still, the plans they came up with were improbable to be succesfull, impossible to carry out, or simply ridiculous at best. 

Tom used his hangover to be pretty much left out of the discussion. Not that he could have added much to it anyway. Perhaps he could have undone what he had started, perhaps not. If he'd wanted to. If he'd dared to. He really hadn't set up the trouble in the Messhall, nor any of the other numerous near-fights, but to say that Tom had nothing at all to do with them might just have been a lie to big even for him. 

At the end of the conversation -- when the ideas became more and more desperate -- Tom was drawn in a bit more. It hadn't gone unnoticed to captain Janeway that Tom's attitude was not much of an example to the other Maquis, but quite the opposite. 

To that, Tom basically told her that they should all just look at B'Elanna, though he chose his words just a bit more carefully than that. He admitted it, but made no promises to change in any way. Still, he managed to keep Janeway satisfied. 

"... so if you think of anything else, I'll always be glad to hear," the captain finished. _Well, at least now two of the Maquis have agreed that peace must be made,_ she spoke glumly in her head. "Dismissed." 

* * *

**4**   
After they left the captain's ready room, Tom and B'Elanna walked in silence for a while until B'Elanna finally spoke. She would return to Engineering to finish her shift -- Suder and Darwin had better have that plasma conduit fixed by now -- and Tom was going to his quarters and hope his hangover would pass before his own next shift started. He could go to Sickbay and get something for his headache, but even that wouldn't be worth seeing the Doctor make absolutely no effort to hide his amusement at Paris' condition. 

"Tom?" B'Elanna finally said. 

"Yes?" 

"The captain was right, you know -- about you seeming to try to keep the crew separated. What's your bone with Starfleet? Why can't you accept it's necessary for us to work together if we're ever to get home? It can't just be that they didn't want you." 

"I can hardly be angry at them for that," Tom replied in his most innocent voice, "it was their loss. A guy like me can always find a job." 

"Tom, I'm serious." 

"Well, maybe so am I." For the first time since they started talking B'Elanna looked at Tom. He was staring at to floor a few feet in front of him, coincidentally looking exactly as she herself had just been doing. As she had heard in his voice, Tom's face had formed the mask he showed to most of the world. His shields were up. He was not going to tell her what this was about. B'Elanna sighed. No matter how alike they were -- how much they actually understood each other -- sometimes Tom was still as much as a mystery as they day they met. More, even. Much more. That first day she hadn't seen beyond the mask. 

He had been directed to captain Mirda's cell by somebody higher-up when their previous pilot had died. A hotshot ex-Starfleet pilot who had joined the Maquis for his own reasons, and an arrogant one at that, he had arrived one morning, an hour late for his pick-up. It hadn't been his fault that time, but B'Elanna had soon come to see it as typical for his attitude, and few in the cell thought any better of him. Just some of the women, and seldom for long. But when the crew had started to respect Tom after he'd saved them all in the asteroid belt of Xaris Minor, he started to change as well. Now B'Elanna could safely say that Tom would give his life for any of the Maquis on Voyager. 

What B'Elanna saw behind Tom's mask today startled her a little. He had far more emotions hidden away than was generally believed, even by his friends, but never this, not unless a Cardassian warship had at the very least locked its phasers on them. B'Elanna could swear she saw fear. 

When she stepped into the turbolift she turned and locked her eyes on his face. "Tom, just think about it. What foolish old grudge is worth keeping over a hundred people at each others' throats?" 

The doors closed. 

B'Elanna sighed again. "Engineering." She would get to the bottom of this, but it would take time. 

***

The doors closed. 

Tom Paris stood there for a minute after B'Elanna left him alone. A "foolish old grudge" she called it. And it wasn't even that much. It was true. He was deliberately keeping Starfleet and Maquis at odds. Not that everybody would have just liked each other if he hadn't been there, but he and B'Elanna and Janeway could heal most of the schism if he would just try. But he didn't, and he knew why. 

There was no "grudge" -- except perhaps with Chakotay -- but in truth he didn't do anything because he was afraid. 

Him, Thomas Eugene "Arrogance Impersonate" Paris, afraid! Afraid his dirty little secret would get out. Among the Maquis, no one had known why Starfleet had thrown him out. Among the Maquis, he had real friends, and he was given respect. Among them, after saving all of their lives at least once, and probably more often, Tom had been able to forget, most of the time, the ghosts that haunted him, the three people he had killed when he'd flown that shuttle and had screwed up. Tom had little doubt that every single Starfleet officer on Voyager knew about it. If his friends would start to listen... There would be little respect or friendship left after that. 

But what B'Elanna had said stung him. Indeed, it wasn't "worth" it. He was supposed to care about his people, dammit! Instead he was afraid to loose the life he had built for himself, afraid for those accusing stares to return... 

Tom didn't even notice he had started walking until he stopped in front of the door to his quarters. Instinctively Paris checked his face -- and thanked god he had his mischievous look firmly in place. He definitely didn't want anybody to see him looking like he was feeling. 

He hesitated at his door. His hangover was the farthest thing from his mind right now, but he didn't want to go back to the Messhall and he remembered that the holodecks were tremendously overbooked, so he went in anyway. 

There was always a certain feel to a room if you were not alone, and Tom felt it in his quarters. 

"Seska?" he called. The Bajoran woman came walking leisurely out of the adjoining room. She had an intent smile on her face and was wearing a dress that was most definitely not a standard issue Starfleet uniform. 

"How did you get in?" Tom asked, slightly surprised. 

"You taught me everything you know, didn't you?" Seska replied as she put her arms around Tom. 

"Uh uh," Tom disagreed, "I taught you everything _you_ know." He returned the gesture and held her tight. 

"Whatever. Anyway, you taught me how to get into other people's quarters without their permission." She paused. "Now bend down that tall body of yours so I can kiss you." And they did. At length. 

"So, Helmboy, did Janeway give you any trouble?" Seska asked a little while later. 

"Not really," Paris answered -- after he'd taken a moment to get his breath back. He wasn't surprised that she knew where he had just come from. Somehow she always knew that sort of things. "She's not really such a bad person, even if she did serve under my father." 

"I thought you liked bad women." Tom smiled at that. 

"Some kinds of bad, yes. Are you bad, Seska?" he said teasingly. 

She gave him an evil sort of grin and started to pull Tom gently by his hands to the other room. "Come to the bedroom and I'll show you just how "bad" I am." 

Tom didn't object. 

* * *

**5**   
A week later, Cmdr Chakotay was surprised to find himself sitting in a bar called "Sandrine's" in Marseilles, Earth, in a holoprogram created by Tom Paris, and even more surprised to be talking to Lt Torres, his arch-nemesis' closest friend. 

Chakotay had gone to the holodeck because he had heard about this fun program where everybody was welcome. When he'd entered, and Paris had seen him, he had given Chakotay a look that was certainly not very welcoming, and truth be told, if he had known in advance that it was Paris' program, Chakotay probably wouldn't have come. But he had to admit that it was fun. 

When he'd entered the bar's "owner," a woman called Sandrine, had immediately tried to flirt with the commander, so when he saw Harry Kim sitting at one of the tables, he'd gone to him at once. _Harry won't mind,_ he'd thought, _the kid is always trying to make us senior officers feel less isolated._

Chakotay only saw B'Elanna Torres sitting across the table from him after he sat down, and it was too late to go away then. Nine days ago, Kathryn had made the Maquis lieutenant Chief Engineer instead of Joe Carey. Chakotay still believed that that decision had had more to do with Paris' constant nagging about it and an effort to keep the peace on the ship than with who actually deserved the job, but she was good at what she did. She had already once saved Voyager from a quantum singularity. 

Harry had looked as if it had been his intention to get the two of them at one table and tried to start a conversation between them. It had been a bit awkward at first, but now Harry just sat back in his chair with a smug smile on his face and Chakotay and Torres did all the talking. _Mission accomplished,_ thought Harry Kim, _if those two can like each other, than there is hope for all of us._

***

Tom Paris stood at the pool table with his cue in one hand. He was playing a game with Ayala, who was just putting the six ball in the side pocket. Seska hung on Tom like she wanted to sit on him; even he felt embarrassed by her sometimes. But he wasn't paying attention to either of them. 

He was looking at Harry, B'Elanna and especially Chakotay, sitting at one table, talking. One friend, one enemy and Harry, of whom Tom wasn't sure if he dared to call him friend. It felt strange, seeing the three of them -- especially B'Elanna and the commander -- together, apparently enjoying themselves. Harry probably had something to do with that. Tom didn't like it. _Tom Paris,_ he thought idly to himself, _are you jealous?_ He thought he could honestly answer `no' to that question. What B'Elanna did was her own business, after all. But he couldn't stop thinking that Chakotay, of all people, would be delighted to tell Tom's friends all about the shuttle accident. 

It was funny, but Harry had never mentioned the accident -- though Tom suspected he did know -- and somehow Tom knew that he never would if he didn't start about it himself. 

Ah, well, Tom had realised some time ago that the truth would come out sooner or later, though he hoped for later. 

Perhaps B'Elanna wouldn't believe Chakotay if he told her. Both Tayl Hiller and Lon Suder had come to Tom, telling that they had heard some some sort of rumour about him, but both of them just thought the Starfleet were trying to "make bad air" for Tom, as Tayl had put it. Tayl was from a strange race, always talking about the air. Maybe B'Elanna wouldn't believe Chakotay either. He sighed. Sooner or later. 

"Hey Helmboy," a voice suddenly whispered in Tom's ear, nearly making him jump, "it's your shot." 

Tom looked at Seska, then at the table. Ayala grinned at him, then became serious. "Forget about that guy, Tom." He had apparently seen where the pilot had been looking. "He's not worth the bother." 

As he aimed his shot, Tom wished that were true. 

***

Again time passed. The next two weeks, B'Elanna and Chakotay talked regularly, and sometimes ate together. They laughed together, and talked of serious matters to either of them or both. B'Elanna didn't quite yet tell Chakotay the things that she had buried deep in her heart, her father foremost among them, but still... In short, they became friends, much to Harry's pleasure. 

Every time Tom saw the two of them together, he thought Chakotay was going to tell her and his heart dropped to his boots. What he didn't know was that B'Elanna and Chakotay had an unspoken agreement that neither of them was ever to mention Tom unless it was from a professional point of view. Just like she and Tom never mentioned Chakotay when they were talking. 

The tension on Voyager seemed every bit as high as the day the two crews -- or rather the two halves of the crew -- had been forced together, but the open hostilities started to appear at greater intervals. 

* * *

**6**   
"Seska to Paris," sounded from his combadge. 

"This is Paris," Tom responded, "Find anything interesting?" They were both part of one of the several away teams sent to this unnamed planet, where vast amounts of dilithium were supposed to be buried. So far, after several miles of the abandoned tunnels, they had found absolutely nothing. First Tom thought the makers of these tunnels must have robbed the place dry, but then what had caused the sensors to show dozens of kilotons of unrefined dilithium? 

"I hoped you had." 

"No. This place is duller than Tuvok." Tom used his flashlight to take another look around. Still nothing but brown rock surrounded him 

"Ha!" Seska laughed, "are you bored, Helmboy?" 

"Whatever gave you that idea?" 

"When the away mission's over, we and the other Maquis could always take over Voyager to stir things up a bit." It wasn't the first time that Seska mentioned that, and each time she did, Tom was less sure she was joking. He was afraid that if he took the bait and said yes, he would wind up actually doing it. 

"Seska, not funny." 

"Look who's tal-" Suddenly the ground began to shake as if the planet's inertial dampeners had just dropped off-line. Tom was thrown around all through the tunnel, but thankfully the ceiling held. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over, and everything went still. 

Tom got up slowly, his uniform and face covered with dust and his heart jumping in all directions. He was just about to contact Voyager, when -- 

"Voyager to away team leaders! Acknowledge please." The captain's voice sounded alarmed. 

"Away team number one reporting, captain," Tuvok's voice sounded almost instantly over the commlink, as calm as he ever had been. "All are accounted for and unharmed. We had just reached the surface when the earthquake commenced." 

Tom tapped his commbadge. "Captain, this is away team number three. We're all spread out, but I don't think any of the tunnels collapsed, so everybody should be all right." 

"Good," the captain said, "Chakotay?" 

Silence. 

The captain tried again. Still no response. 

Tom started to worry, too. B'Elanna was with away team two. "Paris to Torres... Paris to away team number two. Can anyone hear me?" Nothing. 

After another minute of silence, captain Janeway spoke. "Lt Paris, take your away team and go to the number two tunnel system. Tuvok, you're too far away. Go to your shuttle anyway and fly in if it's still necessary at that time. I'm sending in help, but it will take several hours for it to arrive." If Tom could have seen Janeway's face right now, he knew it would be near pure white. They still didn't get along, but Tom knew that she cared deeply for each member of her crew. 

"On our way, captain." Silently he cursed the planet's atmosphere for making a simple beam-out impossible. "Away team two, listen up. Everybody acknowledge and then head for the tunnel entrance as fast as you can." 

"Ayala to Paris, I'm on my way." 

"This is Simms, me and Hudson are on our way up." 

Suder, Seska, Wildman, Nicoletti and Dalby followed, but then it remained silent. Tom's breath caught. 

"Neelix? Are you there?" 

Tom took a deep breath in both relief and anger when the reply came in. "Oh! Er, yes, well ehh, yes, I mean... I'm here, Mr Tom -- Lt Paris, that is. That was quite a ehh... a terrifying experience, wouldn't you say?" 

_Neelix,_ Tom thought, _I just thought I didn't have to tell Kes you were dead, but if you don't shut up, I'm coming there to strangle you._

"Neelix," he said out loud, "just go to the tunnel entrance, all right?" 

"Of course," Neelix replied simply. Tom sighed, and started running himself. 

***

He was last to reach the surface, as he had taken the deepest branch of the tunnels. The rest of the away team stood panting while Suder and Ayala helped Tom out of the hole. Suder was looking around as if he expected to see Borg and Cardassians in every direction, and was ready to take them on. 

"Easy Lon," Tom told him quietly, "put that phaser away." Louder, he said, "Come on everybody, let's move! It's only about a mile." _And then probably several more in the tunnels,_ he added to himself. 

Tom set a steady pace, and no one complained. They all knew friends could be dying. When they arrived at the number two tunnel entrance the pilot immediately jumped down into the entrance cavern and started calling the names of the number two away team, beginning, of course, with B'Elanna. He did not see the furious look Seska, the last one to come down, gave him. 

Then the ground shook again. It was not as bad as the first quake, but bad enough. Seska was thrown down the opening, into the cave, and fell the two meters to the floor. The emergency repairs on the inertial dampeners, so to speak, hadn't held. Tom was afraid that this meant there would be more quakes. 

When he could, he jumped to his feet and reached Seska before any of the others. 

"Seska!" 

Seska got up slowly and moaned. "I'm fine." 

"Are you sure? You're bleeding." 

She pulled her bleeding arm loose out of Tom's grip and said: "I'll be fine." Tom wished he could be sure, but he had no time to waste. He turned when he heard a sound coming from one of the tunnels. 

"Mr Paris," said a familiar emotionless voice from the dark. 

"Vorik!" Tom hurried to him. 

"The rest of the away team is some five hundred meters down this tunnel. There are several injured that require immediate medical assistance. I came here to attempt to make contact with you, Mr Tuvok, or Voyager." 

Paris wanted to hear just who was injured and how badly, but he'd get to them quicker if he didn't ask. "You're injured," he noticed. 

"Yes, my ankle was broken during the second quake," Vorik commented calmly. 

"Ethe, Mike, help Vorik out of the cave, then join the rest of us," Tom ordered. 

"Mr Paris, are you still there?" the captain's voice spoke from Tom's combadge. 

"Captain, we're at the entrance now. We have Vorik and he gave us directions to find the others. He says there are several wounded." 

"Acknowledged. Tuvok's team is on its way, but it will take them about fifty more minutes to get to you." 

"Tuvok always gets to me, ma'am, but this time, he'll be late. We're going in for the others." 

* * *

**7**   
'Going in for the others,' though, was easier said than done. Either Vorik had forgotten to mention that half of the ceilings in the tunnel had come down, or it had happened after he had passed, but in any case, it had happened. It took Tom's away team nearly half an hour of clearing a path and squeezing themselves through narrow openings where that wasn't possible before ensign Wildman, who was in front, saw a light up ahead. 

"Hey there!" she called. 

There was a moment of startled silence, and then ensign Hogan's voice called enthousiastically. "Over here!" he yelled. 

Soon the entire away team -- Hudson and Simms had caught up with them ten minutes ago -- was in a large cavern, that was miraculously still completely intact, treating the more seriously wounded with the emergency medpack they had brought. They found that communication with the ship was down, but decided that they could worry about that later. Tom only stopped to see if everybody was alive until he finally found B'Elanna at the far end of the cavern, near a tunnel. 

Her face was drained of blood and her leg, which bleeded nastily, was twisted at a wrong angle. 

"How are you doing?" Tom said as he kneeled by her side. "Give me a hypospray!" he called to Neelix. "For the pain," he explained to B'Elanna. Tom counted seven people in the cavern. Plus Vorik, that meant two people were still missing. He hadn't seen Chakotay anywhere, and someone else... Tom put pressure to B'Elanna's wound to slow the bleeding until the medpack got to them. 

"Paris," she said irritably, and obviously in pain, "I'll be fine." She stopped to breathe, then continued. "Chakotay... he went in there..," she nodded at the tunnel, "...to get ensign Mishowa. She fell... Went to see if she was alive." Reluctantly, Tom stood up, just as Neelix arrived with the hypospray. 

"I'll go take a look. Neelix, give her something for the pain, but she'll still need to be able to move out of here." And he vanished into the tunnel. 

"My, my, my," Neelix said jollily as he administered the hypospray to B'Elanna. He had read all about Federation Medicine, just in case, and it was proving to be very useful already. "Mr Tom is really a natural leader when it comes down to it, isn't he? We're all in good hands." 

"I suppose," said B'Elanna. Neelix blathered on, but B'Elanna really didn't pay attention. She looked at where Tom had gone. _He wouldn't leave Chakotay here, would he?_ she wondered. Tom and Chakotay really hated each other. _No, he wouldn't. Not Tom._

That she knew that for a fact did not stop her worrying, though. What if Tom _couldn't_ get Chakotay? Or what if Chakotay was already dead?. 

B'Elanna became so lost in thought that Tom startled her when he returned from the tunnel a few minutes later and started to help her up. Strangely enough, he had a determined look on his face, and B'Elanna couldn't figure out what it meant. 

"There a precipice a little way down that tunnel," said Tom to B'Elanna, "It's steep. If Chakotay isn't able to get up himself, there is nothing I can do." To the rest of the people in the cavern, he said: "Let's get everybody out. No telling when the next quake will come." He starting walking to where his away team had come in. 

B'Elanna let herself be directed to the tunnel. She knew that Tom wouldn't -- couldn't -- let any life be lost if he thought he could save it. But then, halfway across the cavern it suddenly hit her. If he _thought_ he could save it. The determined look. Tom had convinced himself he couldn't help Chakotay. She stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't know whether she should punch him in the face in anger or beg him to go back. Tom looked at her askance. 

"Tom, about Chakotay," she began. 

"What?" His tone was clearly defensive. If B'Elanna had still had any doubts, Tom had just taken them away. 

"Can't you just go down to see how he is, at least? If he's alive?" 

"B'Elanna! The chances that I could get him out of there are so small your entire engineering staff couldn't compute them." So there was at least some chance now. "Besides, the roof could come down any moment." That had been the wrong thing to say, and B'Elanna knew Tom knew it. Now he was saying he didn't want to go down because _he_ might not come back. 

"If it had been a Maquis -- or anybody but Chakotay -- down there, wouldn't you gamble for that chance, no matter how tiny?" 

They had started moving again, and this time it was Tom who stopped. His face was lost in shadows to B'Elanna's eyes. She knew he would tell her to shut up. 

"B'Elanna..," Tom started, then paused for a long second. "You're going to owe me big for this. Real big," he said when he finally turned to look at her. He then handed B'Elanna to ensign Jonas, who had escaped the earthquake relatively unharmed. Tom must have felt something of the glare Seska gave him and Torres together this time, because he turned to look at her. 

"Seska, help Jonas here with B'Elanna. With any luck, Tuvok will be there when you reach the entrance cavern." 

"And where do you think you're going?" Seska replied curtly. 

"The ensign, the indian and I will be right behind you." With the nine members of his away team besides himself here there should be plenty able hands to help all the wounded. 

Seska silently cursed Paris. She could see that he was at his most stubborn right now and she would not be able to influence him. It would be good if Chakotay would survive, but if he was saved like this... 

Two very different women stood looking at the tunnel where Tom had once again hurried into for a few long moments, lost in thought, before they left in the opposite direction. 

The captain sat in her chair on the bridge with her knees crossed. Her fingers were drumming impatiently on the arm of her chair. It was so frustrating! First they had lost contact with Chakotay's team, and then Paris' as well. She had thirty people down on that planet and all she could do was wait! Normally she would never have sent so many of her crew on an away mission at once, but the crew had really been in need of some time on a planet after being on Voyager for so long, and there hadn't been supposed to be any danger! It was infuriating. 

She was furious at Geology. They had reported no seismic activity at all, nor any indication that there would be any. Until an entire continent suddenly began to shake. But the captain was more furious at herself. She should have learnt by now that in the Delta quadrant, nothing was what it seemed to be, especially if something seemed safe. 

"Mr Kim, any change?" she asked, for the umpteenth time. 

"No captain," replied the ensign from the Operations station, "we still can't make contact." 

"Keep trying. Lt Tuvok's position?" 

"Approaching the number two tunnel entrance right now, captain. He'll be able to go in in less than ten minutes." All she could do was wait. God, how she hated waiting! 

* * *

**8**   
Tom let himself drop the last two feet to the ground as the tremors began again and held his head protectively in his arms. The quake was worse than the second one, though probably not as bad as the first. _I just hope the others will make it aboveground safe,_ he thought. Then he thought again. To hell with the others! They were a lot closer to the surface than he was. This was the second precipice he'd come down since leaving the cavern. And there was no one around to notice, so he could be afraid. But just a little, preferably. He heard a loud thud inches to his right and winced. 

Just like it had been with the previous two quakes, everything went still from one moment to the next. Tom, now completely covered with brown dust, got up slowly. When he saw the size of the rock that had fallen to his right, his eyes widened. If it had fallen just a single foot more to the left, Tom would have been very flat and very, very dead. 

He started when he heard a groan nearby. "Is someone there?" a strained voice spoke from the darkness. Chakotay. 

"Chakotay! How nice to see you!" Tom called in the voice he knew the commander hated. That he had to save him was no reason to let him enjoy it. Chakotay raised a hand to protect his eyes from Tom's flashlight. 

"Paris? What the heck are you doing here? Get to the surface!" Tom noted that an enormous rock was lying on Chakotay's legs. He wondered if he could get it of. 

"In a bit, Chakotay. Where's ensign Mishowa? I'm here to rescue her, you know." 

"She's dead," said Chakotay, "a falling rock crushed her head." A moment before his voice had been filled with shock, and even some anger, but now the pain had returned, physical as well as psychological. Inside, Tom cursed and cried over the loss of a life for a moment. Of course, he didn't let any of it show. 

"Well," he said as cheerfully as he could manage, "if I can't save the lady, you'll have to do." 

"I will make it up by myself, Paris, if you don't mind." Chakotay voice was ice. _How can he be so cold?_ he thought. Paris, paying no attention to the older man's objections, went over to the boulder on Chakotay's legs and tried to tip it over. Then, he put his back to it and pushed harder. It moved, but bare inches. 

Tom stopped a moment, panting. He had run most of the way down the tunnels, so he already was nearly out of breath. "No doubt," he panted, "without me, you'd be on your way already." He started pushing again. This time, he managed to lift one side enough so that Chakotay could crawl out from under it. He had to pull himself away with his arms. 

When the commander had moved far enough, Tom dropped the rock. He winced. A sharp ledge cut his right palm. It wasn't a bad cut, but it had already nearly vanished in the dust covering Tom from head to toe. Being a Maquis taught you the use of keeping your wounds clean soon enough. 

When Tom looked at Chakotay, however, he forgot his own slight injury. The man's left leg was twisted in all directions. His right leg was severely bruised, but miraculously, it did not appear to be broken. _Well,_ Tom thought wryly, _at least the pressure applied has stopped most of the bleeding._

"Thank you, lieutenant," Chakotay said, his voice telling he wasn't sure if being saved by Tom Paris was worth it, "I'll be fine from here on." And he actually managed to get to a near sitting position. In any other man, Tom would have admired the willpower; Chakotay, he pushed back onto the floor. 

"I'm so sorry, sir," Tom mocked, then anger filled his voice, "but I'll be damned if I came all the way down here for nothing!" He then hoisted the injured man onto his back. Chakotay still refused to cooperate, but simply didn't have the strength to do anything about it. "Would you mind terribly holding on yourself?" Tom said. He would need all the strength in his arms to climb the two precipices. Damn, the man was heavy! Fortunately, Chakotay decided to oblige. 

"So," Tom panted when they -- he -- had climbed the first precipice about halfway, "now that I've saved your but, it belongs to me, right? Isn't that a sort of indian custom?" 

"In your dreams, White Man." Chakotay's hostile voice made Tom smile. He decided that he would make this weight on his back laugh before they reached the surface. He had lost a bet to make Tuvok smile back in the Alpha quadrant, but this should be much easier. 

However, when they reached the second precipice, Chakotay still hadn't cracked a smile -- or maybe he had, but Tom couldn't stop to look over his shoulder -- and Tom's breath was getting in serious trouble of running out. 

"You're incredibly dull, you know that?" Paris said while he rested for moment. 

"Careful, lieutenant, this borders on insubordination," the indian responded. Ha! He was getting at least some response. He started climbing the wall. 

"Oh, I'm sure they'll forgive me at the court-martial," Tom said in between heavy breaths, "after all, I came down here in an act of bravery and insanity above and beyond the call of duty." After that, they fell silent for a while. Tom was getting desperate: the man just hated him too much to laugh. 

At the top of the precipice, Tom breathed a sigh of relief. From here on, the tunnel would only angle upwards slightly. The others should have made it out by now. And there had been no further quakes for quite a while. 

He shouldn't have thought that. 

Chakotay fell roughly to the ground and flew up again a few times when the tunnel shook again and Paris dropped him. The commander managed to shield his head, when, with the final tremor, part of the ceiling came down, but saw Paris' be hit. The lieutenant stumbled and leaned on the wall. 

"Paris!" Chakotay shouted over the dying ruckus, "You all right?" The darkness hid Tom's smile. 

"Worried, commander? About me?" He walked over to Chakotay and painfully picked him up again. "My head's used to worse," he added. _Fine!_ Chakotay thought. Paris could bleed to death for all he cared. But to his surprise, or perhaps not, that didn't sound sincere right now even in his own head. They started walking again, a bit slower then before. 

"Chakotay," Tom started again after a while, "do you know what would happen if the Borg assimilate Vulcan?" 

"What?" 

"Resistance is illogical," Tom replied in a solemn voice. 

***

Tuvok frowned. _Curious._ He was standing a hundred meters into the tunnel directly connected to the entrance, and if he was not mistaken -- which would be a highly illogical assumption -- his Vulcan hearing had just detected a sound that could only be identified as laughter. Cmdr Chakotay's laughter. _Curious indeed._

A minute later, the lieutenant saw his Vulcan hearing confirmed in one way, and denied in another. Tuvok saw Lt Paris coming down the tunnel, carrying an apparently injured and immobilized Cmdr Chakotay on his back. But as far as Tuvok could determine, the commander was not at all in a mood to have laughed, which seemed only logical -- as far as emotions could be described by logic. 

Voyager's security chief quickly sent the three crewmen waiting with him to assist the two exhausted officers, and contacted his captain. 

"Tuvok to Voyager. Captain, Cmdr Chakotay and Lt Paris have just exited the unstable part of the tunnel." 

"Thank god!" the captain exclaimed, and then fell silent for a moment. "And ensign Mishowa?" she queried hesitantly. 

"She is not with the commander and lieutenant, and it is unlikely that she would have been left behind, were she still alive. However," he said, forestalling his captain, "I will question the commander about her condition." 

"Do that, Tuvok. And get everybody... all survivors up to Voyager as soon as possible." 

"As ordered," Tuvok confirmed and cut off the commlink. The others were now near him and he turned to Cmdr Chakotay, who was being supported by ensign Simms and Lt Carey. "Commander," he greeted, and got a tired nod in return. "Can you tell me of ensign Mishowa's present condition?" 

The commander was silent for a while and opened his mouth to speak twice, but as of yet, nothing came out. This told Tuvok all he needed to know, but he still required a confirmation. 

"She's dead. Now can we get out of here?" Mr Paris snapped. Tuvok turned to frown at the young lieutenant, who was leaning heavily on ensign Hudson. He might appreciate that the man was to the point, but he should not have interrupted his superior officer like that. 

"I... agree with Mr Paris, commander. You are obviously in need of medical attention." 

Chakotay nodded. "Take us out of here, Mr Tuvok." 

***

"Congratulations, Mr Paris," the Doctor said, running a tricorder over Tom's head, "you have actually managed to receive a blow to the head which has _not_ resulted in a concussion." 

"So he will be all right, then, Doctor?" captain Janeway spoke before Tom had time to irritate the EMH further. They had arrived in the last shuttle forty minutes ago and HoloDoc had just finished with Chakotay a few minutes earlier. Aside from Tom and Chakotay, there were five other wounded still in Sickbay, but all would recover quickly. The captain, Kes and B'Elanna were also there. B'Elanna had been cleared to leave immediately after she was treated, but she had waited to hear if Tom and Chakotay were going to be all right. For a while there, she had been afraid that she had sent Tom to his death. 

"With rest, captain, a lot of rest." He looked at Chakotay, who was just sitting up slowly on his biobed, from the corner of his eye and added: "The same goes for Cmdr Chakotay, I might add. Lots of rest." He didn't know why he bothered. Nobody listened to him anyway. 

"I'm certain they will both make sure they get enough rest," the captain said, not really paying attention anymore. The Doctor shot her a doubtful glare. "Commander, when you feel up to it, I would like your report as soon as possible." 

"I can give it to you right now, captain," said Chakotay, now standing on his feet without wavering. 

"Good," said Janeway, "let's go to my ready room." 

"Rest! He -- needs -- rest !" the HoloDoc called after the two officers while they left Sickbay. 

B'Elanna saw her chance and took it while the Doctor stood scowling. "Um, I'd better get back to, uh, Engineering." And she left. Tom, unfortunately, wasn't as quick to respond, and the Doctor turned on him while he was still getting up. 

"No!" He pointed an accusing finger at Tom. "At least one of my patients will get the rest he requires!" Left with only Tom Paris, he knew that his was a lost cause, but he had to try. It was his duty. Tom didn't even pause. 

"Sorry, Doc," he said as he moved for the door, "but I really can't leave all my fans wondering if they'll ever see me again." Without Kes, who had left just before the captain and the commander and with the other patients all peacefully sedated, the Doctor was left standing in Sickbay alone. 

He sighed dramatically and spoke with a martyred face and voice: "The least they could do is to try to remember how to turn a program off when they leave." 

* * *

**9**   
_And I wondered if it was a good idea to give Mr Paris the command of an away team,_ captain Janeway thought the next day. She took the two cups of coffee out of her replicator and turned to her desk, where her first officer was sitting. She had actually wondered if Mr Neelix would not have been a better choice and had only refrained from choosing him because she had been afraid he would turn the away mission into a picknick outing. Paris had done better than she had expected him to. 

When she sat down in her chair and handed one of the cups to Chakotay, the captain had to suppress a frown. The commander, usually reasonable to a fault, knew very well that the lieutenant had performed very well, but he seemed determined to make it seem less so. 

"From what I hear, captain, if not for Lt Torres, he would have left me down there to die -- and ensign Mishowa too, he didn't know if she were still alive then, yet." 

The captain took a sip of coffee; it was too hot again. She wondered if there was something wrong with her replicator. "From what _I_ hear, commander, you tried to stay down there to die when only Lt Paris could help you," she countered. 

Chakotay scowled at the hot cup in his hands, a bit embarrassed. 

_What happened,_ Janeway pondered, _that made you and Mr Paris hate each other so much, Chakotay?_ She vowed that she would find out, somehow. 

***

"You know, some good might have actually come of this," Tom said lightly to B'Elanna. They were sitting at a table in Sandrine's, watching but not paying attention to a game of pool going on between Harry Kim and the Doctor, who had recently gained the ability to transfer himself from Sickbay to the holodecks. 

"What?" B'Elanna answered, "have you stopped hating Chakotay?" 

Tom made a face somewhere between a grimace and a grin. "I wouldn't go quite that far." Suddenly the grin broke free and nearly split his face in half. "No, I was thinking more about how the two of you are _deep_ in my debt now." 

B'Elanna put her face in her hands and groaned. She should have known. Paris wasn't going to let her forget this for a long, long time. 

A cheer rose from the pool table. To B'Elanna, it seemed to mock her. To Tom, it was applause. 

***

The captain sighed. Well, she could always try again later. She would. She had vowed she would find out only twenty minutes ago. At least the commander seemed to have given up on trying to put an ugly face on Lt Paris as well. 

"So has someone found out why the sensors showed all that dilithium down there, yet?" she asked her first officer. 

"Lt Torres brought back a sample of the planet's rocks. She says it reads practically the same as dilithium on our sensors. The composition of the rock was also the reason we had trouble communicating. As long as there were wide tunnels connecting us to the surface we could talk, but after they collapsed..." He left it hanging. 

"I don't suppose these rocks can be refined into any sort of fuel?" the captain asked. 

"I'm afraid not." They sighed in unison. 

"It looks like we'll be going to Mr Neelix' traders' station after all." 

The corners of Chakotay's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Are you afraid your morale officer will replenish his stores of leola root, captain?" 

Janeway returned his smile. "I'm just not so sure I trust Mr Neelix' evaluation of his _absolutely honest trading partners_." For a moment captain and commander were lost in their seperate thoughts, then Chakotay stood up. 

"Well," he said, "I have an early shift tomorrow, so I'd better get some sleep. With your permission, captain..?" 

"Dismissed, commander." She watched him walk away and when he reached the door, she said: "Chakotay?" 

He turned in the doorway. "Captain?" 

"I don't know what happened between you and Mr Paris" -- _though I certainly will_ -- "but don't you think it is about time to forget, if not forgive?" 

"Kathryn," Chakotay spoke wearily, shaking his head softly, "what happened... It will not be easy to forget, not for a long time, if ever." His eyes watched something far away for a moment, then refocused. "For neither of us, I suppose." 

***

B'Elanna silently called herself Klingon swearwords. It had been a perfectly nice evening -- as long as Paris had refrained from getting too witty. So why had she had to mention Chakotay and chase him away? She'd known what the effect would be, but she was so damn curious why two of her best friends hated each other so much. 

"Hey, Maquis, is something wrong?" She looked up from where she had been staring at the floor to see Harry sitting down in the chair Tom had vacated a little while ago. 

"Nothing," she lied. 

***

Tom Paris hummed softly to the music as he and Seska danced around in her quarters. Seska didn't care for dancing herself, but she'd discovered a long time ago that it was a good way to keep Tom occupied and to keep him from thinking too much -- or just to shut him up -- while she herself could concentrate on the matters at hand. 

Tom had been a little tense when they came here, but the dancing's relaxing effect was starting to work. The Torres woman had tried to get him to give an explanation for his grudge with Chakotay. Tom hadn't told her a word, of course, but it still annoyed Seska to no end. Even she herself didn't know what the grudge was about. Had they been in the Alpha quadrant, she would have known it nearly as soon as she knew there was a grudge, or a Chakotay. But here, in the godsforsaken Delta quadrant, where she didn't have access to her resources... 

But those were matters for another time. It had been over a day and Seska still didn't know how to handle the consequences of the away team incident. She didn't even know exactly what they were! She had read the reports, of course -- even the one only the captain had been supposed to read -- but they only contained the bare facts. Tom had saved Chakotay. End of story. 

But Seska needed more than that; she needed to know how that rescue had influenced them both. With luck, Chakotay would only despise Tom more because he owed him his life, but her gut told her that wasn't so, and Seska trusted her gut. She had built her entire strategy of how to preserve the schism between the Maquis and the Starfleets on Voyager on the animosity between the two men. If Chakotay had just died, Seska could have found some other reason for distrust, but if they started to respect each other it would be disastrous. And if that happened, it wouldn't just be Chakotay who would feel respect -- you couldn't just save a man's life and still think you wanted him dead. 

If only that fool Tom had demanded the place of first officer when he'd had the chance! He could easily have done that, as she had told him many times. If Janeway had turned him down on that, the current hostile situation would have seemed a peaceful paradise next to what it would have become. It was too late now, of course, but if he had demanded it at the beginning... The step from first officer to captain was a small one. One Seska could have arranged. 

Once Tom were in the captain's chair, he would have done anything if he thought it necessary for _his_ people. And Seska could make him believe almost anything was necessary. 

Seska decided she would just have to watch how this one turned out and then make the best of it. She had no doubt she could do that. Through Tom Paris, the Maquis were all so easily manipulated. None of them realised the influence Tom had on them, not even he himself. 

And then there was Torres. Yet another problem. Seska had had extensive training on how to discover and to make use of the slightest emotional eddies and she was literally the best. With her experienced eye Seska had seen what existed between Torres and her Tom the first time she had seen them together. Fortunately, she had also soon discovered that they hid it, from themselves as much as from each other. Unfortunately, since their arrival in the Delta quadrant, more and more seemed to be slipping through their mental shields. If they discovered their love for each other, Seska's influence on Tom would become virtually nonexistent. Not to mention that her Tom would most probably simply dump her. 

Perhaps it was time to reestablish negotiations with that Kazon maje. It had been some time since they last talked, and he should have cooled off by now. 

Suddenly Seska was pulled back to the present when she bumped into the bed, hard, and fell to a sitting position. 

"Ow! Watch where you lead, Helmboy!" she chastised her dancing partner. 

Tom sighed. "I'm sorry, Seska. My mind was just lightyears away." 

Seska had to suppress a smile at that. _He should know. No,_ she thought as she started to pull Tom down onto the bed, _no, he shouldn't know._ She wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, now, would she? But when the time was right, poor Tommy-boy would be in for quite a shock.   
  
  


TO BE CONTINUED

  
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

Since I claim that Paramount owns Star Trek, Voyager and everything in and on it, I also disclaim any claims I might have on that ship which is way out of this world (and quadrant). But I do claim my right to claim all claims on this story, and I disclaim all claims Paramount might claim on it. By the way, this story is just for fun, not profit etcetera etcetera. I borrowed ensigns Simms and Hudson from the P/T Collective (thank you) and disclaim any rights there are to claim on them. 

Beta-read thanks go out to Maaike van Eekelen. 


	2. Fall from the Stars

**STAR TREK: VOYAGER   
SCHISMS**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk 

An Alternate Universe adventure in four parts.

  
  


* * *

  


**FALL FROM THE STARS**

  
**1**   
He stepped into the captain's ready room on the starship to which he was assigned, and stopped in front of the desk. The captain, a plump man with greying hair, looked up at him. 

In his Dreams, the captain's eyes knew what he would do and they stared endless accusations at him. 

The captain smiled at him and handed him a datapadd with the details on his mission, while he told him that he was to bring the ambassadors to their destination in a shuttlecraft. 

In his Dreams, it was an evil smile, one knowing that he would not escape what he already had coming this time. He saw the eyes and the smile, but he didn't understand. Why? he wanted to scream. What is it? -- and in spite of his ignorance in that matter, he understood that he was afraid. Afraid until he thought that his heart might freeze. 

He stepped into the shuttlebay with his copilot and met the two ambassadors. He introduced his copilot. He was polite. And he was received with haughtiness. Ambassadors only coped with anyone beneath the rank of captain when and because they were necessary. 

In his Dreams, the ambassadors knew all to well what he would do to them, and their looks were pure contempt, disappointment, accusations. Again he didn't understand any of it but his fear. 

When the ambassadors entered the shuttle and they were alone, he and his copilot exchanged a look, silently discussing the ambassadors' behaviour. 

In his Dreams his look begged for understanding, and his copilot's accused, and worse, condemned. Again, he wanted to scream, but the dreams would not be interrupted. Among his fear another, unidentifiable emotion swirled. 

Dropping out of warp, he ignored incoming reports on the `cosmic weather,' just like his copilot's halfhearted urging for caution. He was better than competent: he was an extraordinary pilot, one of the best. He had flown through this kind of storm before, and he could do it again. He dodged `cosmic lightning' easily. Going around the storm would have been a waste of time. 

In his Dreams, the voices delivering the reports called his name, pleaded with him, ordered him to change course. He ignored them. After all, what could be wrong? A twinge of doubt took shape among the other two emotions in his mind -- was _he_ what was wrong? -- but it vanished almost instantly. 

When he checked his instruments, his mind wandered. There was reason not to waste any time. There was a girl on that planet and he had sent her a message telling her he was coming. She would be waiting for him. 

In his Dreams, an image of her face formed. He smiled at her. Her smile was a sad one, and she turned away, unable to look at him any longer. She had seen him for what he was. Then things started happening oh so fast, but in his dreams, they lasted for hours... 

A lighting bolt shot out from the storm and stabbed through the shuttle's impulse engines, throwing them into a flat spin. His copilot was thrown half out of his chair; his head collided with the shuttle and he did not move again. He tried frantically to regain some control over the shuttlecraft and did not see the moon coming until they were entering its atmosphere. The spin stopped when the shuttle hit the surface. When he regained consciousness, a mass of what had been a shuttle pinned him down. He couldn't even turn his head. He didn't have to. His copilot lay barely a meter from him, his eyes locked on his, staring the stare of death into his eyes for the long hours till rescue came. 

In his Dreams, his copilot was not alone. The two ambassadors were there, staring at him, and so were his captain, and his father, and all the others who had had faith in him, who he had let down. The second emotion nearly drowned his fear, now. Finally, he recognized it: it was guilt. Guilt for three lives on his conscience. Guilt for screwing up again. The accusing stares of those he had killed seared his flesh. 

***

Tom Paris sat up bolt upright in bed. His heart pounded wildly, his lungs laboured for breath as if he was in a vacume. He wrapped his arms around himself as he tried to stop shaking. 

Next to him Seska stirred, but did not wake. She'd had an arm around Tom when he started awake. Fortunately, she wasn't easy to wake once she was asleep. Fortunately, because Tom couldn't have told her, couldn't have explained. 

Over the course of what seemed hours, Tom's breathing slowed and his heart returned to its normal rhythm. Still he couldn't move. 

He struggled on to regain his control of his emotions, but the dead eyes that his mind projected over every accusing look anybody gave him shattered the little he could find. 

The nightmares were back. It wasn't surprising, really, with the anniversary only three days off -- two, if it was past midnight -- but he hadn't had them for nearly nine months. Or at least not as more than vague bad dreams. 

Finally, Tom put his face in his trembling hands and cried. "I'm so sorry, Wariss," he whispered hoarsely. He wanted to apologize to the dead ambassadors as well, but he couldn't even remember their names, and hated himself for it. Perhaps it didn't really matter. What good could an apology possibly do? He had killed them. He had survived. And he hadn't even admitted what he had done, not at first. 

After the lives he had saved at Xaris Minor, he had wanted to believe so hard that he had somehow redeemed himself. Tom had tried to forget Caldik Prime ever happened, he realized. He had tried to flee his responsibilities again. That night, there would be no more sleep for Tom Paris. 

* * *

**2**   
It was quiet in the Messhall. Gamma shift was at work, it was getting late for Beta shift and it was still early for Alpha shift to be up. Neelix, of course, didn't seem to be interested in what time or shift it was and was assiduously praising every single one of today's choices in meals. The so-called eggs certainly were interesting: they were a bright red. And that was after they were peeled. 

Chakotay wondered when the Talaxian slept. He never seemed to leave his kitchen to anybody else unless he was needed in his role as a guide to the quadrant. 

Unlike the cook, the commander wasn't in a very cheerful mood. He had been woken an hour earlier for what had turned out to be a false alarm. One Chakotay thought Tuvok could easily have handled without calling him. 

Chakotay decided it would be wiser not to to eat his egg. The blue and orange... things... had been edible, if no more, so he had been able to satisfy his appetite. There was no reason to take any more chances with his health. The indian stood and he started walking toward the door. 

His eyes fell on Tom Paris, who was sitting at another table. He'd been sitting there since before Chakotay entered, but judging by his plate, he still hadn't eaten a bite. As Chakotay had noticed earlier, the pilot appeared to have had a rough night, probably partying on the Holodeck. He wondered if Paris had even bothered to go to bed at all this night. 

Irritated by the man's behaviour, Chakotay turned to his table. Paris only seemed to notice him when he leaned on the table with both hands. 

"Mr Paris," he started, "what you do during your off hours is your own concern, of course, but I expect you to be properly rested and clear-headed when you report to the bridge in seventy minutes. If you are not, I will put you on --" 

"Don't start, Chakotay," Paris interrupted him, "just get lost." Chakotay blinked in surprise. Even for Paris, this was extreme. When he replied, his tone was ice. 

"Paris, you seem to be forgetting that you are speaking to your senior officer." 

"Not forgetting," the pilot said and turned his eyes back to his food, "just not in the mood. Goodbye, Chak." 

"I think you'd better take that back right now, lieutenant." Paris didn't respond. Chakotay was really infuriated by now. He grabbed Paris' shoulder in one hand and continued: "I've had about enough of your arrogance --" 

Suddenly the younger man was on his feet, his right arm forcing Chakotay's hand off his shoulder and his left fist on the side of the commander's face. Chakotay answered the blow instinctively. He wasn't sure if he hit anything or if Paris managed to deflect his fist, but he didn't wait to find out. He swung back his arm for another blow -- less instinctively, this time, and more in anger -- only to collapse on the floor when he was punched in the stomach. Paris threw himself on top of him at once. 

On the floor, they fought on. Chakotay was stronger than the Maquis pilot, but Paris had more experience in this sort of fight, and he knew some moves that weren't included in Starfleet Acadamy's hand-to-hand combat training. 

Chakotay was just trying to get Paris, who was holding his head to the floor, off of him when the Maquis was suddenly pulled back and held by two pairs of strong arms. When the commander jumped to his feet, he too was grabbed by two security officers. 

Tuvok looked calmly at each of the bruised officers in turn. "I believe a visit to Sickbay before we continue to the brig is in order," he said. 

* * *

**3**   
Captain Janeway was at a loss. After months in the Delta quadrant, her crew had finally started to meld together, to let old animosities be old animosities. Even the most arrogant one among the Maquis had earned at least some respect, in her eyes as well as in those of most of the Starfleet crew, with his actions in the mines three weeks ago. 

And now, it could very well all be ruined. Mr Paris had started a brawl. With Chakotay. Chakotay, of all people! Anyone could see that there was no love lost between the two, but thus far, they had managed to keep it private. 

The captain sighed deeply. She took a sip of coffee from the cup she was holding in her hands. It had gotten cold. 

She was so sure that there had to be some reason for this to happen now, but she had no idea what it was. Paris had been a bit tense for the past several days, but as far as Janeway could remember, it hadn't seemed to be focused on her first officer. Of why Chakotay had fought, she knew even less. 

As important as reasons might be, the captain decided, they would have to wait. Perhaps she should just have asked for the reasons when she'd confronted her two officers in the brig half an hour earlier, but she'd been too furious to do much more than yell at them. 

For now, however, it was more important to decide the consequences than the reasons. Paris and Chakotay had always set an example for their respective parts of the crew. Captain Janeway knew that stories of the fight were already all over the ship. She should have to set an example with the punishments as well. If she only knew how. 

Suddenly the captain's commbadge chirped and she was dragged out of her thoughts roughly. She almost spilled her coffee. "Torres to Janeway," a bodiless voice spoke. It sounded even more angry than the captain felt. 

"Janeway here," she said when she'd recovered her composure. "What can I do for you, lieutenant?" Why would she be angry at this time? Of course! She'd probably been asleep during the brawl because she was working Beta shift and had only just now heard about it. And it involved two of her best friends. 

"Do I have permission to pay Cmdr Chakotay and Lt Paris a visit?" It _was_ a question. Barely. 

Captain Janeway considered it for a moment. B'Elanna Torres was a close friend to both of the brawlers, but she wasn't the kind of friend who would just let this pass. It wouldn't hurt if the lieutenant made clear to Paris and Chakotay exactly what they had done, and the captain didn't think she would choose sides either. 

"All right, lieutenant," she replied finally. She wasn't finished talking yet, but Torres had lost what little patience she'd had. 

"Thank you, captain. Torres out --" 

"Just a moment, lieutenant. I released them from the brig. They're both confined to their quarters, now." 

"I know," was the curt reply, and the commlink was broken. Janeway sighed once more. She hoped she had made the right decision. Otherwise she would have another fight on her ship, this one involving her chief engineer. 

***

"You heard her, Simms! Now get out of my way!" Lt Torres and ensign Simms were standing outside Cmdr Chakotay's quarters. Ethan had been told not to let anyone in, and usually he would never have hesitated to do his job properly. A minute earlier, however, it had been an effort not to run to get out of Lt Torres' way when she'd come stalking down the corridor in his direction. The ensign was glad he had found the guts to object to her entering the commander's quarters. If he hadn't, Tuvok would _not_ have been happy. Still, he was glad that he didn't have to prevent Torres from entering. He jumped aside. 

***

Commander Chakotay looked up from the datapadd he had been reading from when the chime announcing someone wanting to come in sounded and, at the same time, someone did enter. 

"Hello, B'E --" he started to say, surprised that anyone but the captain would be allowed to visit him. 

"Shut up!" B'Elanna stopped him. She continued to rage at him for about fifteen minutes, calling Chakotay each and every kind of vermin, low-life and such to be found in the Alpha quadrant, and some that weren't, and explaining him exactly why he was one. Half of it was in Klingon, which the commander -- fortunately -- did not speak, but the rest sufficed. After fifteen minutes, B'Elanna started to repeat herself, and Chakotay decided to speak. 

"You, you... PetaQ! You --" 

"You're right," Chakotay said. Partly out of self-preservation, because he knew this would slow the infuriated lieutenant down considerably, but mostly because he knew it was true. He should never have physically fought with any member of the crew, no matter the provocation. He'd never have believed that he would. 

B'Elanna abruptly fell silent. In the following silence, Chakotay noticed that the computer was still playing music. He'd completely forgotten. He hadn't heard any of it in the last fifteen minutes. 

"It was possibly the worst mistake I made since arriving in the Delta quadrant. Paris started it, but I know that that's no excuse. I could have started a civil war on Voyager." B'Elanna looked at him for a moment, then tiredly let herself fall on the couch, opposite to the commander. She sighed. 

"You're as bad as Tom is," she complained -- now speaking at a normal volume -- "he always talks like that, too, when he wants me to calm down. I just can't stay angry when somebody does that!" Chakotay felt a bit uncomfortable being compared to Paris, especially now, but knew he'd better not mention it. 

After they sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while, the engineer spoke up again. "But why, Chakotay?" she almost pleaded, "why did you have to go and fight with Tom?" She was still angry, but now she'd calmed down enough to listen to the whole story, not just the rumours she'd heard earlier before she started yelling again. 

"I don't really know. One minute I was just talking to him -- I admit I wasn't being very friendly, but I've been much worse, and Paris never even seemed to care. Then he... he just snapped and started to fight. And I snapped too," he added guiltily. 

"Maybe it _was_ just Tom," B'Elanna muttered thoughtfully. "He's been edgy lately. He's never edgy. I wish I knew what's bothering him, but he's completely shut himself off to me. Maybe Seska could..." She continued in the privacy of her mind. She hated the idea of asking for Seska's help. 

Chakotay gave a wry laugh and she looked up. "C'mon, B'Elanna, even _I_ can guess what's bothering Paris." Up until now, he hadn't thought Paris was bothered by it at all, but if something was bothering the lieutenant now... It was to great a coincidence. "The accident," he clarified, "it's two years ago tomorrow -- or maybe the day after tomorrow." 

"What accident?" B'Elanna replied absentmindedly. Chakotay frowned. 

"Caldik Prime?" At first, no response. Then, as she made the connection, B'Elanna's head snapped up. 

"Two years ago? When Starfleet threw him out? What accident?" she demanded. Chakotay was baffled. 

"You mean you really don't know?" he asked unbelievingly. 

"What accident!" B'Elanna demanded again. Her voice was regaining volume. Chakotay didn't have a clue as to what was going on anymore, but he realized that he'd better hurry to explain. 

"Paris crashed a shuttle on one of Caldik Prime's moons," he summarised, "three people were killed. Then he falsified his report." And all of a sudden, B'Elanna was storming out of his quarters. Chakotay frowned. Did this mean Paris never told any of the Maquis about Caldik Prime? Something told Chakotay that he was a very lucky man that Torres had left when she had. He'd almost pity Paris, but it was the man's own fault. Again. 

***

When Lt Torres so suddenly came storming out into the corridor, ensign Simms started. He had been able to hear the yelling from his post outside Cmdr Chakotay's quarters quite clearly, but the last few minutes had been quiet, so he thought that Torres' infamous ire had subsided. Apparently, he was wrong. Ethan took a quick peek inside before the doors closed. Fortunately, the commander appeared physically unharmed, and so did his quarters. 

After a moment, Simm's professional mind caught up with him, and he decided that he should warn his colleague, George Natwick, who was standing guard outside Lt Paris' quarters, of Lt Torres' impending arrival -- and her permission to go in. 

* * *

**4**   
Tom Paris was sitting on the floor of his quarters, idly throwing playing cards in a hat he'd placed near the door. All right, it wasn't really a hat, but it was a good enough substitute. He was in a dark mood. He was still feeling too irritated to think much about the things his fight with Chakotay might have set off, but he knew the only two ways he would not think about the nightmares, about Caldik Prime, were either flying, or being in the company of a lot of other people. And he had effectively cut off both possibilities himself. Story of his life. And he hadn't even really enjoyed hitting Chakotay. 

When the door opened unannounced, Tom didn't look up immediately. He just watched the pair of boots walk through the doorway and stop -- missing his hat-substitute by a few inches only. 

Women's boots. That meant it wasn't Tuvok, so it must be Janeway. Tom had overheard Natwick's orders -- he wasn't to let anybody except for those two walk through that door. 

After having made this observation, the pilot was quite surprised when -- after he finally looked up -- he saw Lt B'Elanna Torres standing in his quarters, trembling with barely contained rage. Tom felt slightly amused as he wondered if B'Elanna had somehow bullied the muscular Natwick into letting her in. 

B'Elanna had been suppressing very strong urges to do something violent since she stepped through that doorway. She had hardly noticed George Natwick standing outside, or anything else since leaving Chakotay's quarters, for that matter. 

Just when she had convinced herself not to kill Paris, the subject of her anger looked up at her, and after his surprise faded, B'Elanna saw amusement in his eyes. It was the last straw. 

"I'm not even going to yell at you," she said. The icy calmness in B'Elanna's voice alarmed Tom. Normally, she was _never_ calm when she was angry, but he had seen her act like this once before; once, when B'Elanna had been angrier than ever before in her life. He thought it ridiculous that she would be _that_ angry about the fight. B'Elanna continued. 

"I trusted you -- we all trusted you -- you and your unsurpassed piloting skills that got three people killed. You lied to us! Did you think that since you screwed up in Starfleet you could come and screw up in the Maquis too?" B'Elanna was too upset to think straight, and bit by bit she had forgotten about not yelling. She turned and stormed out back into the corridor. Outside, ensign Natwick was no less baffled than ensign Simms had been. 

The cards slid out of Tom's trembling hands and fell to the floor. A drop of sweat slowly made its way down from his hairline across his ashen face. Aside from trembling, he didn't move. 

Caldik Prime. She knew about Caldik Prime. She believed it. And she had reacted just like he'd feared. Like she did in his nightmares. Tom had expected B'Elanna to be angry at him for the fight, but this? It was so unexpected. He'd known the Maquis would find out someday ever since he knew he would be living on a Starfleet ship, but when it hadn't happened for months on end... He had started to feel safe again. His father's voice sounded in the back of Tom's head. 

_Forgive? No, Thomas, things like this are not forgiven. You have screwed up again, worse than ever before, and this time, it will not be forgiven. No one will forget Caldik Prime, and your mistakes will be with you all your life._

In B'Elanna's eyes, Tom had seen the dead, accusing eyes of Wariss. 

***

Though B'Elanna returned to Engineering and during her entire shift spoke not a word that was not an order, rumours spread. Voyager was a small ship, after all, and on it, the Maquis were an even smaller community. 

Shortly after the events that had led to them being stranded in the Delta quadrant, rumours had started to be told about Tom Paris. Bad rumours. Some even called him a murderer. But they had all originated with the 'Fleeters, and every single Maquis knew how Chakotay hated Paris, so none of them had believed the rumours. Now, it appeared that they were true. 

Before the end of the day, everybody on Voyager had heard at least some version of Caldik Prime. 

Many were angry at the pilot. He should have told them. Or even: he should never have been allowed to join the Maquis. 

Some didn't really care. They were hurt and angered that they hadn't known it sooner, of course, but they knew Tom wasn't the only one of the Maquis with a past. Some even had one of their own. 

Seska was definitively angry. At Tom. At Torres. At Chakotay. But not for Caldik Prime. She had known it all along, though Tom had never told her about it either. No, she wasn't upset about the accident. She was upset about others finding out. She knew it would stretch the loyalty to her Helmboy to the limit, if it didn't destroy it completely. Not to mention what this would do to Tom himself. He cared not nearly as little as he wanted to, and Seska could see it straight through his shields. 

B'Elanna wasn't certain how she felt. Sure, she had been angry at first, and she still was, but after she had regained control of her temper, she could also understand. Tom had been afraid to tell anyone, and judging by her own reaction, it was a justified fear. There had been something in Tom's eyes when B'Elanna yelled at him. A look she didn't quite recognize, but one that had shocked her very much. 

* * *

**5**   
After being confined to his quarters for four days, Tom had at last calmed down. He had spent those four days worrying that B'Elanna might come back, and worrying that she might not. The condition of his nerves had only deteriorated. What would his people think of him now? They certainly wouldn't want to be _his_ people anymore. 

Still, when the security officer came to escort him to the captain's ready room, his public face had slid back into place with surprising ease. He had purposefully not looked at the officer's face. The same with the people walking through the corridors. 

He couldn't help but catch a few glimpses, though. The Maquis tried not to look at him, but he could see their faces, and he could always read those. What he saw made a dead man's eyes shine through theirs. Maintaining his mask became an effort. 

***

The captain of the U.S.S. Voyager took a slow sip of coffee. Cmdr Chakotay was standing on the other side of her desk, and as soon as Lt Paris arrived, Janeway would finally set their official penalties for the fight in the Messhall. Both had already spent four days confined to their quarters, but more would be added. Their replicator rations and Holodeck time for the near future would be severely reduced. 

Idly, the captain wondered what Lt Torres had said to Chakotay and Paris four days ago. What ensigns Simms and Natwick had put in their reports didn't make any sense at all. 

And she wished she knew why people all over the ship were suddenly talking about the accident at Caldik Prime, even the Maquis. It had always seemed to be a forbidden subject to them. Janeway sighed mentally. If Chakotay hadn't gotten himself into this mess, he would have been able to tell her. 

The door hissed open and Lt Paris stepped into the ready room. Hudson, his escort, waited outside. 

"Lieutenant," she greeted with a nod. Paris looked lousy. His clothes looked slept in and he obviously hadn't shaved this morning. _Well, Kathryn,_ she reprimanded herself, _it's not like you gave him much advance warning that he would be brought here._

"Captain," Tom returned the greeting. _So at least I'm still a lieutenant,_ he thought. 

While captain Janeway told her officers the repercussions of what they had done, she studied the two of them with her eyes. Chakotay looked like he felt guilty, like she had expected. Paris was a bigger problem. As always his face was unreadable, a trait he had inherited from his father and perfected for his own use. But by the way he was standing there, next to Chakotay, Janeway thought he looked... distracted, as if he had better things to do than listening to his captain. It annoyed her. 

Meanwhile, Tom was lost in thought. He heard what Janeway was saying, but that was only of minor concern. From what he had seen on his way to the ready room, he judged that Caldik Prime was now common knowledge. Well, he'd just have to live with that. He'd still be piloting this ship. He could take whatever they threw at him. But what would Seska think of him? Or Ayala? Or his other friends? 

***

Though Tom was no longer offically confined to his quarters, it made little difference. The first eleven hours, he spent gathering enough guts to go to the bridge and do his job, and it was only barely enough. Tom couldn't help but watch the face of every person he came across, this time. There was something in each of them that made him see the dead eyes. With some people, it was just his imagination. The pilot had always had a decidedly vivid imagination when it came to this sort of thing. Yet, a great many more people really had found new reasons to hate him. Even the 'Fleeters despised Tom with new vigor, now that they knew he had kept his `murderous' past a secret. 

Captain Janeway fidgeted in her chair. She had noticed that her chief pilot had not said one word that was not completely necessary since he had taken his position at the Conn. Usually, she would have appreciated it. Lt Paris always did his best -- which was _very_ good -- to make a nuisance of himself with his flippant remarks, often going so far that Janeway was tempted to relieve him of duty, but never going quite so far that she actually did it. Though she wouldn't admit it even if it would get her ship back to the Alpha quadrant, the captain had started to enjoy Paris' sense of humour. But today, he didn't say a word, and Janeway's captain's instincts told her that something was terribly wrong. She had finally heard about the new developments around Caldik Prime from Chakotay. Perhaps that was it. It would take her a long time to find out. 

***

B'Elanna pressed the button to ask permission to come into Tom's quarters again. For the third time in as many minutes. She knew that Tom was there -- she'd asked the computer -- but he wasn't answering. The lieutenant wasn't sure if Paris had been evading her the past three days or if he had spent all of his free time here in his quarters, but she _was_ sure that it had gone on long enough. She had done a lot of thinking in the past few days. B'Elanna still agreed with the rest of the former Maquis that Tom had been wrong to keep silent about the accident, but she also knew that her friend was getting more than his due in punishment, and that he was not as invulnerable to it as most people believed. From what she'd seen of Tom at the meetings of the senior staff, he was taking the situation much worse than even B'Elanna had thought he would. 

"Come in, Torres," a voice called, but it wasn't Paris' voice. It was Seska's. The Bajoran had probably asked the computer who was at the door. B'Elanna was surprised that she told her to come in. The two women didn't exactly get along very well. 

When B'Elanna stepped into Tom's quarters, Seska looked up at her from the pilot. She was sitting next to him on the couch. In spite of all her efforts, Tom still refused to look at her. He simply sat there, staring at the floor. Seska didn't understand why he was taking the situation so badly. By now, Tom could have had most of the Maquis eating from his hand again, just by talking to them, but he just sat in his quarters letting it all slip through his fingers. And he wasn't taking care of himself properly: he ate much too little. 

Seska _really_ didn't want to involve Torres, but she was running out of options. Tom's and Seska's relationship had never been a particulary deep one on the emotional level, and sometimes he wouldn't talk to her, when he would talk to the Torres woman. He loved her, after all. Even if he didn't know it. And she didn't either. If Seska could help it, Tom would never find out. To accomplish this, an intimate conversation like the one they were going to have now was not an advantage, but her Helmboy needed the support right now. Seska got up and walked to a chair standing at a discrete distance. 

"You try to talk some sense into his thick skull, Torres." 

B'Elanna didn't understand why Seska left Paris' side -- usually she clung to him like a F'taBe- spider, especially when B'Elanna was around -- but she didn't complain. She took Seska's place at Tom's side and studied his profile. Tom was looking pale, almost sick, and he did nothing to acknowledge the engineer's presence. 

"Tom, look at me," she ordered. When he didn't respond, B'Elanna gently grabbed his chin in one hand and turned his head to face her. Sometimes the pilot needed a firm hand. 

Simply because he had no other choice, Tom did as he was told. He blinked. Then he looked again. He read B'Elanna's eyes and saw no blame in them. Somehow, he knew, this one person who didn't hate him could save him. 

"Why don't you blame me anymore?" he whispered, surprised. It was B'Elanna's turn to be startled. How did he know that? And with such certainty? She frowned at him. 

"It was an _accident_, wasn't it?" she said simply. Paris' needed the reassurence. Besides, B'Elanna hadn't given exactly what she was going to say much thought. She rarely did. 

"But... The lies in my report? And never telling any of you?" Tom tried to return to watching the floor again, but B'Elanna grabbed his face. 

"I don't approve, of course, but I understand. It's probably what I would have done." 

"Yeah? I don't think so." He shook his head. "You wouldn't have." 

"We're not talking about me right now. We're talking about you. And you have a lot of people worrying." 

"About whether they'll survive the next time I'm at the Conn?" 

"No! Tom, they're worrying about _you_. I am. Seska is. You look like shit, and you've been acting like you feel you're worth less!" At the mention of Seska's name, Tom looked at where the Bajoran was sitting. He'd almost forgotten that she was there, too. Seska smiled at him. The pilot could see that the smile wasn't sincere, but he realized, too, perhaps for the first time, that she didn't blame him either. When he turned back to B'Elanna, she was staring at him intently. 

"Now, are you going to tell me why you are taking this so badly? Some people don't like you, but a lot of people never liked you before, either." 

"It's not just that they don't like me, it's... it's..." Silence. Ever since he and B'Elanna had started to talk, Tom's mask had been slowly dissolving, and the half-Klingon could see more and more pain on his face. It hurt _her_ to see Tom in such pain. 

"Tom," she said gently, "you can tell me." The blue-eyed man didn't want to talk about it, but with the compassion he saw in her eyes, he just couldn't stop himself. 

"It's the way people look at me." He looked in B'Elanna's eyes and saw that she didn't understand. But then, how could she? Tom shuddered, and B'Elanna put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "After the accident -- on the moon, before the rescue party could get to me -- I was stuck beneath the debris of the shuttle. I couldn't move. Wariss -- he was my copilot, and my friend -- he was lying a few feet in front of me. He was looking at me all that time -- I mean... he was dead, but his eyes... They looked so much like they were accusing me, blaming me for the crash. And it was my fault. Every time someone looks at me with an accusing look in his eyes like that, I see those dead eyes again." 

Seska had been on a short fuse for a while anyway -- the woman had been talking to _her_ Tom for less than twenty minutes, and already she had succeded in getting Tom to talk to her, while Seska had tried and failed for days! -- and when she saw Torres draw Tom into a tight hug, she nearly exploded. She fumed some more when the two Maquis kept talking. If she wasn't careful, she would kill the halfbreed. Why couldn't Tom simply talk to _her_? 

Then B'Elanna started to raise her voice, and Seska tried to follow the conversation. 

"Paris, cut it out! Your friends are _not_ going to abandon you. If they did after Caldik Prime, they weren't real friends. You have real friends here, and Ayala _is_ one of them." 

Tom sighed. "B'Elanna, I've seen how he looks at me." 

"So you startled him. He wants to forgive you, Tom, you just have to give him a chance. Wait. We'll go to him right now." She stood up and pulled the pilot up with her. He looked at her unhappily. 

"B'Elanna, are you sure?" 

"Positively sure." The Torres woman half dragged Tom out of his quarters. Seska got up, too, and followed them. 

* * *

**6**   
"Really, I understand all your reasons," Ayala said, "everything you've just told me, but it takes some getting used to. Did you know that I actually used to think of you as an infallible pilot? Nobody is infallible, but that's how I thought of you." Tom's friend looked him in the eyes again, and Tom felt so relieved he saw only traces of the accusations, that he could almost cry. Thank god for the `almost'. 

Nearby sat B'Elanna and Seska. B'Elanna had been right, of course. Tom was being paranoid if he thought the revelation of his secrets would mean the end of his world. And Seska... She had been trying to help him for days. Seska didn't seem to care about Caldik Prime at all. She behaved as if nothing at all had changed since before she knew. It was almost scary, but at the same time, perfect. 

Ayala, B'Elanna, Seska. True friends. Tom had always thought he had had those on Earth and on the U.S.S. Exeter, too, but apparently, he was wrong, and true friendship was more than they had given him. He didn't mind one bit. 

Then Ayala spoke again. "All right, let's make a deal. I'll forgive you, and you make sure something like this will never happen again." He held out his hand. Tom smiled back at him and clasped it. 

"It's a deal." 

***

The next day certainly wasn't easy, but Tom had recovered enough of his confidence to pretend that he had recovered all of it. Sometimes he could believe his own pretences, too. 

Tom started his campaign to win back his friends first thing in the morning. He went to the Messhall -- on Voyager, some people considered that an act of bravery in itself -- and, for the first time in days, sat down with a group of the other Maquis. Gerron, Hiller, Dalby and Chell were all a bit surprised, but they let him, and didn't go away. Chell would probably talk to _anyone_. 

At first, Paris let the others do most of the talking -- at least, for as much as he could keep his mouth shut. He didn't pretend nothing had happened: they wouldn't take that from him, and neither would he himself. Instead, they simply talked about other things. Tom would apologize later, when he really felt confident again. 

On the bridge, the helmsman acted much the same. Not yet completely back to his usual annoying self, but enough to let everybody know that he was on his way. It all confused the heck out of the captain, who had thought her pilot was having some sort of depression. She spent most of her shift on the bridge trying to figure it out, until she finally gave up and fled to her ready room. 

By the end of the day, Voyager's grapevine had two dozen new rumours to tell about Tom Paris. The Maquis in general were pleased. This Tom Paris, they knew. This Tom Paris, they could trust, no matter what had happened in the distant past. He'd saved all their asses often enough. 

Seska was pleased as well. Tom would feel much better, knowing that he was needed, that people depended on him. And more important, people _did_ depend on him to lead them again. She would need to prod a little with the more distrustful, like Suder, and the Maquis would not follow Tom as blindly as they did before, but they would follow. It was enough for Seska's plans. 

Tom certainly had a lot more work to do, but Seska had plenty of time, and Tom would be eager to do it. 

***

"So we either take a really big risk, or we take a six month long detour," said Lt Torres days later. The entire senior staff had been called together for an extra meeting in the Conference room. Voyager was nearing a huge plasma storm, and would have trouble manouvering through it. The plasma charges in this particular storm simply came with too little warning for the starship to evade them, and a few direct hits could cause severe damage. 

"Not necessarily," Chakotay said from his seat on the captain's right side, "if we go along with ensign Kim's plan, the risks shouldn't be to great." Harry Kim had suggested that a shuttle might be agile enough to evade any charges -- which Lt Paris confirmed -- and that a shuttle flying where Voyager would be a minute later could provide the starship with enough sensor data, so that it -- if combined with Voyager's own sensor data -- could reliably predict and evade the plasma charges that would be in it's way. The plan still wasn't without its dangers, but, according to most of the staff, those were small enough. 

"I say we do it," captain Janeway spoke. "Lt Torres, I want you to choose two people for the processing of the sensor data. Mr Paris, I think it would be best if you fly the shuttlecraft." 

"Yes, ma'am." Janeway took a good look at her chief pilot. She had been worried about him for a while. There probably wasn't a single person on her ship about whom she cared less, but, still, she had worried. She was glad that the lieutenant's problems had been resolved. Well, actually, Janeway wasn't entirely certain what his problems were, except that they had had something to do with the accident at Caldik Prime, and Paris appeared to be recovering from his emotional crisis. In a way, it was fortunate that this crisis had occurred. Before, Janeway had always believed that Paris thought the deaths he had caused meant nothing, and this once, she didn't mind at all being proved wrong. 

"We enter the plasma storm at 1500 hours. Everybody, be ready. Dismissed." 

* * *

**7**   
It was one of the Dreams again, but this time, something was different. 

Tom couldn't quite catch it, but something was different. He was sitting behind the controls of a shuttle. Was it a different shuttle, perhaps? Nah, it couldn't be. There were plasma charges all around him. Waitaminute! He never flew _into_ that storm at Caldik Prime! He wasn't that crazy. But Voyager needed to get through it... But... What was Voyager doing in the Dream? It didn't make any sense. 

Perhaps it didn't matter. His piloting skills should be more than enough to get the shuttle through without a scratch. He had done this before. But hadn't something happened, before? He couldn't remember. 

In the chair next to him, Sue Nicoletti was processing and relaying sensor data as fast as she could. Nicoletti? Wasn't she one of Voyager's crew? No, she must have been from the Exeter, and she was flying to Caldik Prime with him. Everything was just fine. 

Then Ayala was there, standing behind Nicoletti, handing her a padd with more data. But Tom _knew_ Ayala had never set foot on the Exeter. 

The Dream didn't let Tom wonder about it for long. He was simply flying the shuttle, nothing more. 

He was even getting a bit distracted, and watched for the visual signs of appearing plasma charges. The instruments showed where they were forming a fraction before they could be seen, but Tom had always worked better like this, using his own senses rather than instuments. 

Better? Did he work better like this? Not this time. 

A plasma charge hit them dead on. They were so near to the edge of the storm. Consoles exploded. His didn't. Someone screamed. He knew he had to get the shuttle out, but he was bleeding, and it hurt badly. One last turn. He lost consciousness... 

***

... And he woke up. He groaned and immediately held his head in his hands, before it had the chance to split in two. Tom always sat up straight when he woke up from the Dreams. This time, it had definitively been a bad move. 

After a moment, he looked around, and saw where he was. Sickbay. Again? How did he get in here this time? Vaguely, he remembered something about a plasma storm, through which he had to guide Voyager. But how did that explain his obvious injuries? 

"Well, you're awake," said the EMH, standing next to the lieutenant's biobed. "And just as well that you are, Mr Paris, because I was about to give you a sedative." The hologram held up a hypospray. "You appeared to be having a rather disturbing nightmare," he explained, "but now that you are awake, you won't need the sedative." 

With another groan, Tom slowly lay back down again. "Doc, what happened?" 

"Yes, your memories will be a bit scrambled until the sedative wears off --" 

"That's not what I asked." The Doctor snorted at his patient's impatience. _But,_ he reminded himself, _with Mr Paris, that's not really unexpected, is it?_

With the Doctor's words, Tom slowly started to recall things. First he remembered the Dream -- the different one, the one he had just had -- and then the actual occurrences. 

"Your shuttle was hit by a plasma charge. Fortunately, Voyager had already made it far enough through the plasma field to continue without the sensor data you were sending us, and somehow your shuttle made it through as well, so you were transported to Sickbay so I could patch you up. I must say, Mr Paris, I can always count on you to come up with the most interesting injuries." The Doctor noted that Paris's heart rate increased and his respiration became irregular, but a quick scan did not detect any plausible reasons for these symptoms, or for Mr Paris' sudden excessive perspiration. 

"Doc," Tom said, nearly out of breath, "the others?" 

"Ms Nicoletti was not badly injured, and -- thanks to me, I might add -- is already fit enough to be released from Sickbay, as she has been." He paused. "However, I regret to inform you that the transport came too late to save Mr Ayala. He died before he could be transported to my care." 

***

The captain stepped out of the turbolift and walked to Sickbay. In the last two days, since the shuttle accident, she had already visited Sickbay to see Tom Paris several times, but coincidentally, the lieutenant had been asleep at each of those visits. It was one thing to hear the Doctor say that he was going to be fine, but Janeway needed to hear it from her pilot as well. 

Besides, she just had to know how Mr Paris had gotten that shuttle to fly out of the dangerous area after it was hit. Technically, it was impossible. 

Captain Janeway stepped into Sickbay and was surprised to find it completely empty. For a moment she just stood there, then she suddenly remembered. _Ah, yes, the Doctor said something about releasing Paris from Sickbay soon._ Well, then "soon" must have been this morning. 

"Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Holographic Program." The EMH materialised in front of her. 

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency -- or lack of one," he added dryly, after finishing his preprogrammed first sentence. He smiled when he saw the captain. _Smiled?_ Janeway thought. "Ah, captain, so good to see you." 

"Likewise, Doctor. Would you share the reason for your good mood with me?" 

"Certainly, captain. After two days, I finally have no more Tom Paris in my Sickbay." This caused a slight smile on the captain's face as well. The Holodoc dramatically pointed a finger at the ceiling. "And it gets even better. When I informed my patient that he is to remain off-duty for at least three more days, he didn't even complain! Not one word!" The Doctor suddenly frowned. "Captain, please make sure that Mr Paris does, in fact, stay off-duty for three more days. Perhaps I have underestimated him." 

The captain frowned as well. Something told her that she should worry about this unusually meek Paris. "So he _will_ completely recover?" she asked for the fifth time. The Doctor rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, exactly like the last time you asked, captain. Mr Paris is still experiencing a rather high degree of stress and some residual traces of his injuries, but that should be of no worry. Captain, now that you're here, I'd like to report that several of the late arrivals of the crew" -- he meant the Maquis -- "_still_ have not showed up for their medical examination." He began counting on his fingers. "There's ensign Seska, and crewman Gerron, and --" 

"Send the list to my ready room, and I'll send them all a note," Janeway said, "I'm going to visit Mr Paris." 

"Certainly, captain." The captain was already crossing the doorway before the Doctor stopped speaking. _Hmph,_ the EMH thought, _I wonder when Lt Torres will finally find the time to install that program that will allow me to deactivate myself._

* * *

**8**   
The captain entered the turbolift with a sense of relief. The various reasons why she hadn't been able to talk to her chief pilot since the accident -- either he was asleep, she was asleep, or she had important ship business to attend to -- were starting to irritate her. Of course, the Doctor was right, those crewmembers should have reported to Sickbay long ago, but at the moment, it was simply one more thing that would keep her away from Lt Paris. The Doctor would have loved to lecture Janeway for hours for not getting Gerron and the others to Sickbay sooner. The problem had existed for weeks: it could certainly wait a few more hours. 

The 'lift's doors hissed open and captain Janeway stepped out onto Paris' quarters' deck. She was just turning to walk down the corridor, when a voice called her. 

"Captain!" B'Elanna called. She didn't see the captain roll her eyes or hear her exasperated sigh. Lacking knowledge of these warnings, the lieutenant hurried to her captain. "I was just going to look for you, captain. I -- We need to talk." 

The captain started walking. "Unless you have a reactor leak down in Engineering, it will have to wait." Unfortunately, if not completely unexpectedly, Lt Torres wasn't about to be left behind like that, and followed. 

"Where are you going -- if I may ask, captain?" she inquired. She already thought she knew, and it was exactly what she wanted to talk about. 

"I am on my way to visit Lt Paris." B'Elanna'd been right. She nodded, and wondered why captain Janeway sounded so determined. 

"In that case, we might as well talk. He won't let you in." 

"Excuse me?" Janeway replied, puzzled. 

"He won't talk to anyone. When he was still in Sickbay, he kept telling me he was tired and needed to rest, so the HoloDoc sent me away every time I came to visit. Now that he's back in his quarters, he doesn't even respond when I ask if I can come in. So unless you plan to give Paris a direct order to talk to you or override his lock, it's no use going to him." 

The captain's nerves were now stretched almost beyond endurence. It seemed to her as if everybody was conspiring to keep her away from Lt Paris, but if he himself didn't want to see anyone, it was, as B'Elanna had said, `no use'. 

"All right," she said, "what did you want to talk with me about?" 

"Tom Paris," was the reply. 

***

Later, in the captain's ready room, B'Elanna explained everything. The situation disturbed Janeway. There was obviously a lot more to her chief pilot than she had even suspected and -- once explained -- the similarities between the Caldik Prime incident and the incident in the plasma storm were not lost on her. She could only imagine what hell Lt Paris must have been going through. 

"Do you think there is anything we can do?" Janeway asked, in a voice that was almost pleading. 

"There is," stated Torres. "But I need your help, captain. We have to convince him that everything is all right, that no one blames him for what happened." 

"_He_ certainly blames himself," the captain said. "He says in his report that he wasn't paying as much attention to the sensor reading as he should have." 

"Do you blame him?" the lieutenant asked her bluntly. 

"No," captain Janeway replied without a moment's hesitation. "I'm sure that it was just the slightest inattention, and up until that moment Mr Paris was performing splendidly." 

B'Elanna nodded her agreement. "But we have to convince _him_ of that," she continued, "and _that's_ why I need you, captain. Tom won't believe me if I tell it to him, because I'm too close to him. Despite everything, he still feels that _you_ are part of the opposition." 

The captain thought for a moment, then she said: "All right, lieutenant, I'll help you." She glanced at her chronometer. "But when? It's starting to get late." 

"Tomorrow," B'Elanna said. "I still need to warn Harry as well -- he could really help Tom. 0900 hours?" she asked. "We don't want to have to wake him." 

"Agreed," the captain replied. "I will meet you at Lt Paris' door." B'Elanna smiled and left. 

* * *

**9**   
Harry Kim's feet shuffled on the deck uncomfortably. He was worried about his friend, even if the Maquis still wasn't completely ready to call him that. Next to him, B'Elanna Torres wasn't much better off. She was continuously clenching and unclenching her fists. When captain Janeway arrived they both gave a sigh in relief, as if her presence was all that was needed to guarantee succes. 

The captain pressed the chime, and when there was no response she immediately spoke. "Computer," she said, "override the lock on the door to Lt Paris's quarters. Authorisation Janeway Delta Seven." The door swished open and the trio rushed inside. 

What they saw was much as B'Elanna had expected, but she heard a startled gasp escape from Harry's lips. Tom was sitting on his couch, and took his face from his hands for only a moment to look at his friends coming into his quarters. He looked terrible. There was no other word that described it correctly. His hair was dirty and tangled. His uniform was just as dirty and crumpled all over. There were walls under Tom's eyes from lack of sleep, and the deep blue of his eyes was nearly drowned by redness from crying. "Go away," he muttered hoarsely. They all ignored that. 

B'Elanna sat down on one side of Tom, the captain on the other and Harry pulled up a chair to sit in front him. Tom didn't look at any of them, not even when Harry and B'Elanna spoke to him, tried to comfort him. 

Only when the captain joined in did Tom respond in any way. "Captain?" he said, his voice still hoarse. "You don't... You don't blame me?" He was obviously surprised. 

"Tom, if not for your piloting skills, none of you who were in the shuttlecraft would have made it out alive." 

"But... Ayala..," Paris muttered. "He..." B'Elanna took both his hands in hers. 

"He died in an accident, Tom. Let him go." Finally Tom met her eyes, and recognized the compassion in them. There was no forgiveness, because there was nothing to forgive. 

"Do you remember what he said? Ayala?" he asked after a moment. 

B'Elanna didn't know what he was talking about. "No," she said, shaking her head. 

"He said... When we went to talk to him about Caldik Prime...He said that he'd forgive me... If I never let it happen again." He choked. "It was only a joke, but..." His words stopped when he could no longer talk. Tears again filled his eyes and he looked at the people gathered around him. All he found was friendship and compassion. Then B'Elanna put her arms around him and engulfed him in a hug, her eyes now, too, filled with tears. As he laid his head on B'Elanna's shoulder, he felt the captain's hand comfortingly on his back. 

"It'll be all right, Tom," B'Elanna whispered to him softly. "You'll be all right." Strangely, considering how he was feeling, Tom believed her. He had lost Ayala, but with B'Elanna, Harry, Seska and now captain Janeway, too, he knew that he would be all right. 

***

Standing in the now open doorway, Seska silently exploded. One look at how Tom and the halfbreed were holding each other was enough to tell her exactly what was going on. And it had gone far enough, she decided. She would not wait around until Tom threw her aside like some old uniform. No, it was already painfully clear that that was what would happen. 

Once she had turned away from the scene in Tom's quarters and walked a little distance into the corridor, Seska allowed herself a soft, evil laugh. She had already made arrangements. All she needed to do was make a single call. And then Tom Paris would pay. For disrupting her plans -- for loving another woman. Seska laughed again, louder this time, and somewhat bitter, though she didn't notice that. Oh, yes, her Tom would pay.   
  
  


TO BE CONTINUED

  
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

Since I claim that Paramount owns Star Trek, Voyager and everything in and on it, I also disclaim any claims I might have on that ship which is way out of this world (and quadrant). But I do claim my right to claim all claims on this story, and I disclaim all claims Paramount might claim on it. By the way, this story is just for fun, not profit etcetera etcetera. I borrowed ensigns Simms and Hudson from the P/T Collective (thank you) and disclaim any rights there are to claim on them. 

Beta-read thanks go out to Maaike van Eekelen 


	3. Separation Pains

**STAR TREK: VOYAGER   
SCHISMS**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk 

An Alternate Universe adventure in four parts.

  
  


* * *

  


**SEPARATION PAINS**

  
**1**   
Thomas Eugene Paris had been slow to start his psychological healing process after the accident that had killed his friend Ayala and nearly him, too, but once he started, he hurried through it at an amazing pace. It was only some eight days after his friends had convinced him to move on that he was down on an actually rather nice planet on an expedition to gather edible plants, and he was full of his infamous good humour... Well, maybe it wasn't _that_ good. 

Tom, B'Elanna and an ensign called Freddie Bristow were standing in a mortified silence while Neelix dug enthusiastically in the ground for more leola roots. Voyager had bought a small supply of the vegetable from traders some months ago, and none of her crew had been sorry when that supply had run out. It seemed their hopes had been in vain. 

"The best source of vitamins and minerals in the entire sector, I tell you!" Neelix explained happily. 

Tom, who was in command of the away mission, turned to B'Elanna and the ensign and grimaced. "I suppose we'd better help him dig," he said. "Captain's orders." They set to work. 

A little while later Lt Carey came hurrying to them from the other side of a hill. He smiled broadly when he spoke. "Lieutenant," Carey adressed Tom, "look!" He held up a green fruit; if he hadn't known better, Tom would have sworn that it was an Earth apple. He looked back at Carey expectantly. "There's a whole forest of trees with those just over that hill," the lieutenant explained. 

Unnoticed to the both of them, Neelix had gotten up and followed Carey's story with interest. Then he reached out and took the `apple' from Carey's hand. For a moment, the Talaxian studied it. "I wouldn't eat any of this," he said. "One bite, and you'll..." He began a florid description of the painful death that would follow the consumption of the innocent looking fruit, but fortunately it was cut short by captain Janeway's voice speaking over the commlink. 

"Voyager to Paris," she spoke. 

Tom tapped his commbadge. "Paris here, captain. What can I do for you?" 

Janeway's voice sounded somewhat tense when she replied. "We have detected a Kazon ship in orbit of the planet." 

Tom frowned. "Kazon?" he wondered. "How did they get so close?" 

"They are using some sort of cloaking device. Gather the away team and get ready to transport back to the ship." 

"Yes, ma'am," was Tom's reply. Behind him, B'Elanna smiled. It was amazing how much the relationship between Tom and the captain had improved in so short a period of time. 

***

It hadn't taken long to gather the away team and their precious harvest, but when Tom had thought they were all ready, someone had noticed that Seska wasn't with them, and the Bajoran hadn't answered when Tom had hailed her. Fortunately, Carey had seen her headed for a grove near a rock outcropping perforated with tunnels: if she had for some reason entered those, her comm signal might be blocked. That was where Tom was headed now, while the others had beamed back to Voyager already. 

Tom didn't plan to stop to look around in the small forest, because if she'd been outside she would simply have been able to answer the hails. That was why he didn't see the Kazon until it was nearly too late. 

There were two Kazon standing guard not far from the only entrance to the tunnels Tom could see. Fortunately, they weren't paying very much attention, and Tom didn't have much trouble sneaking past them. It worried him, though. If there were Kazon here, there undoubtedly were more inside. What if they had found Seska? 

Tom encountered a few more bands of Kazon sauntering apparently meaningless through the caves, but he managed to stay hidden from sight. At first, that was. Suddenly a shadow dove from a corner right in front of Tom. Tom had his own phaser up before he recognized the figure aiming the Starfleet phaser at his head. 

"Seska!" 

"Tom!" they said simultaneously. Seska sighed in relief. "I thought you were a Kazon," she said. "Did you see them?" Tom nodded. "I was outside when I first noticed them, and they were so close that they would have heard me if I'd called for a beam-out." She looked at Tom, who nodded that he understood. 

"And when you went inside you couldn't contact Voyager anymore. But what were you doing in that forest anyway? It was pretty far from our our beam-in coordinates." 

Suddenly Seska grinned and reached one hand into her gathering-bag, which hung from her shoulder. "I saw this," she said, and held up a red fruit. Tom's astonished look was priceless. 

"That looks like a tomato," he said after a moment. 

"And according to my tricorder, it tastes like one, too. Now you can finally have some _real_ tomato-soup again." 

Tom joined Seska's smile enthusiastically. "Seska, I could kiss you! In fact --" He kissed her thoroughly. After a few moments, he disengaged. "But I'm afraid we'd better get out of here." 

Seska put on a disappointed face. "Really?" she asked. 

"Really," Tom answered. "We wouldn't want those ugly Kazon to see a sight as beautiful as you, would we?" Tom started walking carefully toward the tunnel exit, and Seska followed a few steps behind. She smiled knowingly. If Tom only knew, Seska thought. But it was still too early. _Soon,_ she promised herself. _Soon._

***

One of the two Kazon that were standing guard outside never knew what hit him as he crumpled to the ground, stunned by a phaser. The other one, a soldier called Teggah, remained conscious just long enough to see two figures in what he recognized as the cursed Starfleet uniforms rushing past him, and to hear a voice call for a beam-out. 

***

Seska stood staring at the stars flashing by the window of her quarters at Warp speed. She was not happy. _That idiot maje!_ she thought. All had been arranged, and then he had refused to take her and Tom. Who would have thought that Kullah actually had enough brain to be cautious. Seska understood the theory behind the maje's refusal, but it would only result in trouble for both parties involved. She would have to carry on with the charade for a while longer, and Kullah would undoubtedly lose equipment, or even lives, with his crazy plan to extract Seska later. Perhaps, with a little planning, Seska could arrange to be simply beamed off Voyager, but she saw no reason to go easy on Kullah. If he wanted to do this the hard way, he'd get the hard way. 

The communicator on the desk suddenly came to life. "Incoming message on sub-space," the computer's dry voice said. 

"Open channel, audio only," Seska ordered. She stayed put at the window. "I assume the equipment functioned as I promised it would, maje Kullah?" 

"It does," came the Kazon's voice. "At least, we are still only testing the replicator you gave us, but everything seems to be working properly." 

"As I told you it would," Seska said, not bothering to hide her anger at the distrust she was treated with. She had demands in return for the aid she gave, but before she would get what she wanted, Kullah wanted to make certain that her aid was genuine. "We'll speak again when you've finished playing around," she said, and terminated the commlink. It was only a minute or so later when Seska heard the door open and another voice spoke. 

"Seska? Are you there?" 

"Yes, Tom," Seska called back, "I'm here." _But not for much longer._

* * *

**2**   
"So," Tom said, "I thought that since Voyager won't be going anywhere for the next twenty-four hours anyway, we could do some scouting ahead. Maybe we'll find some ore that _does_ meet our dear chief engineer's qualifications." Voyager was getting some much-needed repairs and new supplies at a friendly world, Draya or something, Seska couldn't recall exactly. Meanwhile, she, Tom and Lt Joe Carey had been sent to a planetoid where the Drayans had said they could find baritium. Unfortunately, the ore had been of too low a quality to be of any use to the Federation vessel. 

Now, with his annoying enthusiasm, which seemed to have grown exponentially since the anniversary of Caldik Prime, her Tom wanted to explore the rest of the asteroid belt. Seska disliked being stuck in the small shuttle for very long, but perhaps it wouldn't be so bad: at least it would keep Tom away from the Torres-woman. 

On the comm-screen, captain Janeway frowned. "It's a good idea," she said, "but I want you to be _very_ careful. We still don't know what those Kazon we met last week were doing in this sector, and it's far from their own space. Maybe they are following us." 

Tom nodded. "We'll be careful, ma'am." 

Janeway sighed at the term of address, but wished them good luck and then broke the commlink. 

Seska, standing behind Tom, leaned her forearms on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. From the copilot's chair, Carey spoke up. "Why don't you let me fly for a while, lieutenant? I think I can handle a straight line to the asteroid belt, and you haven't been out of that chair for longer than fifteen minutes for the past eleven hours." 

When Seska could tell from Tom's face that he was about to refuse, she whispered in his ear. "Let him!" she said softly. 

Finally, Tom smiled. "Well, it appears I am outnumbered. Go ahead, lieutenant." He got up and let Seska take him to the aft compartment. Once there, Seska tried to give him some _real_ kissing, but he avoided her mouth -- subtly of course, just not subtly enough. Lately, her charms had started faltering. They had both noticed it, but only she knew why. 

"Do you want to work on our holonovel?" Tom asked. A few weeks ago, he had caught her working on a holoprogram --one of Tuvok's, actually -- and he had tricked her into promising to make a program together with him. To her surprise, she rather liked it. She and her Tom were both very good at programming, and if she would remain on Voyager long enough to finish it, the holonovel would no doubt become a hit among the crew. 

"Sure," she said, "why not." 

***

It must have been about two hours later when Joe Carey called them back to the pilot compartment. Tom never liked leaving the pilot's chair for someone else, especially in small craft like the shuttle, but he had to admit that he felt rested. 

He had enjoyed the argument he had just had with Seska about a scene he wanted to add to the holonovel. She said it was outrageously ridiculous -- and it was. Tom had let her have her way in the end, and they would leave the scene out, but that didn't really matter. He and Seska were working on the details of the scene she had suggested instead when Carey called. 

Tom immediately got to his feet and walked to the front compartment. "What is it, Carey?" He best knew Carey from when he'd been B'Elanna's competitor for the position of chief engineer, and that hadn't left the best of impressions. Still, B'Elanna said that he really was a decent guy, so Tom managed to get along with him, as well as he got along with any of the Starfleet people, anyway. 

"I think there's a Kazon ship out there, lieutenant," Carey replied, "but I'm getting some strange readings." Tom hurriedly sat down in the other chair and checked the engineer's readings. 

"You're right," he said after a moment. "There's a ship out there, and it's Kazon, but that is about all I can be certain about." 

Seska leaned over his shoulder. "Let me see," she said. 

Tom leaned aside so that she had a better view of the console. "Carey, lay in a course." 

"Aye, sir," Carey confirmed. 

"I don't think Janeway wants us anywhere near any Kazon, Tom," Seska said. 

"Well," Tom answered, "I'm not reading any lifesigns, so I don't think we'll be in much danger." 

"Still..." Seska left it hanging. 

Tom looked at her, a little surprised. "What's up, my dear? You're not usually this squeamish." Seska didn't reply, she only looked a bit insulted. 

Fifteen minutes later they were approaching the Kazon vessel, still scanning. "You two, help me here, I'm not an engineer," Tom said. He tapped a finger on a reading. "Isn't this alloy typically Federation?" 

Carey looked, and nodded. "You're right lieutenant," he agreed. Then he frowned. "This is _very_ weird. I don't suppose we could go take a look inside that ship? There is some radiation, but it only reaches dangerous levels in one location." 

"Let's do it," Tom said. 

To which Seska, by now predictably, replied: "Janeway is not going to be happy about this." Tom realized that a month ago, Seska would probably have been able to disuade him. It was funny, he had never realized how much influence she had on him until it started diminishing. He almost resented her for it -- he hated being controlled -- but it probably was all his own fault. 

Tom double-checked the Kazon vessel's structural integrity, before asking: "Seska, are you coming with us? You can stay on the Sacajawea if you want to." 

Seska sat down behind the instruments Carey had just abandoned. "I'll join you in a minute, all right?" she said. "I want to run a few more scans from here first." 

"Fine by me," he replied, then went to the transporter, which Carey was configuring to be able to get through the radiation. Tom handed him a wristlight and a phaser from a compartment in the wall. They stepped onto the transporter pads. 

"Energize," Carey ordered the computer. 

In a shower of light, their surroundings seemed to disappear. When they could see clearly again, they were on board of the Kazon ship. Both Tom and Carey coughed at their first inhalations of the smokey air. "Where are we exactly?" Tom asked, looking around. 

"The alloy you scanned is just in the next room," Carey said, and he took an instrument with which he tried to wrench open a door. Tom joined him there and drew his phaser. Despite the lack of lifesigns, he didn't feel as self-assured as he had shown himself. When Carey had gotten the door open a few inches, Tom helped him push it the rest of the way. 

The sight of the room on the other side left them both speechless. 

"My god," Carey whispered after a little while. There were four Kazon in the room -- or at least, what was left of them. All across the room, instruments seemed to have melted. And not just the instruments. The dead remains of the Kazon had abandoned their genetically determined forms, and their molecules had mingled with those of the objects surrounding them. The center of it all appeared to be some piece of machinery, but Tom couldn't see it clearly, because it was surrounded by a kind of fog. 

"This is disgusting!" he said, regaining control of his legs -- he hadn't been able to move them for a moment. Tom nudged Carey's shoulder. "Why don't you determine whether that thing is Starfleet equipment or not," he told the lieutenant. "The sooner you do, the faster we can get out of here." 

Carey swallowed. "Aye, sir," he said. He took his tricorder and started taking scans. 

Despite his disgust, Tom studied a Kazon corpse. Was it an accident, or perhaps some kind of monstrous weapon that had caused these terrible deaths? When Tom heard Seska arrive, he didn't look up. He wished she didn't have to see this, but he knew that she had seen things as bad with the Maquis. "Did you find anything useful?" he asked. 

"Yes," she said. "This." 

Suddenly Tom heard a phaser blast, and a muffled cry from Carey. He whirled around, expecting to find a surviving Kazon. Instead he saw only Seska aiming a phaser at him, and another still aimed at Carey. The engineer had fallen to the deck face down. A wisp of smoke was coming from the left side of his back. Straight from his heart. 

"Seska?" Tom asked, completely confused. "What the hell?" He noticed a small, angry smile curling the corners of her mouth. 

"It may have come a little sooner than I expected," she muttered to herself, "but it's no less fun." Louder, she said: "Don't worry, Helmboy. I've got a special phaser set on stun for you. You won't die... or at least, not yet." 

She fired, and Tom's world went dark in a flash of pain. 

* * *

**3**   
Fortunately, Kullah hadn't been far away when Seska called him -- just a safe distance from the testing of the replicator -- and he got to the wrecked ship in less than two hours. Voyager had hailed the shuttle half an hour ago, but Seska had left her hails unanswered. 

When Kullah and his two bodyguards materialized in front of her in the shuttle, Seska jumped to her feet. "You fool!" she yelled at Kullah. "Can't you even use a machine to make _food_ without losing a ship?" 

With an effort, she got a hold of herself. "Forgive me, my maje," she said. "I was just worried about our -- your -- great plans." She made sure that the way she stood gave the Kazon idiot ample opportunity to admire her figure. It worked: Kullah's glare evaporated like snow in a Cardassian steam bath. 

"There is no problem," he stated. "You only have to supply me with a new machine, and we will come back on schedule." 

Seska suppressed a sigh. "I can't go back to Voyager, my maje: I killed one of their people, and stunned the one you promised I could keep for a while." 

"You little _hraga_!" Kullah scolded her. "You planned this all along! You have wanted to leave Voyager since the beginning, but I would not let you!" 

"If I had let them escape, they would have reported that you have access to their technology, they would have increased security, and I wouldn't have been able to give you anything anyway," Seska told the maje coldly. _Besides,_ she thought, _how could I have anticipated you were _stupid_ enough to make a replicator explode!_ "At least this way," she added out loud, as an afterthought, "you can keep the shuttle." 

"Indeed," Kullah said, nodding. It seemed from the way he said that that he had thought that all along and was complimenting Seska that she had figured it out. 

"Could you please have your men take Tom Paris from the Kariph, maje Kullah? He's been in that radiation for nearly two hours now. That can't be healthy." Kullah gestured for his guards to make it so, and one of them had himself beamed over to the other ship. "Now, my maje, please let me advise you how the useful equipment can best be taken from the shuttlecraft." 

"We're not taking the entire shuttlecraft?" 

"That would not be wise, maje Kullah. Better to take what we can use and destroy the rest." With a little work and a little work, Janeway would believe that the shuttle had been destroyed with the three part crew in it. 

***

Captain Janeway looked over her shoulder at the Operations station. "Try it again, Harry," she said. 

"I just did, captain," the young ensign replied. "They're still not responding." Chakotay could hear the worry in both their voices, and he had to admit that worry had not left him entirely untouched either. Though the other two were probably worried most about Paris. Even Kathryn was something like a friend to the man now. Chakotay wasn't particularly worried about Paris. Anyway, the pilot had a habit of coming out of bad situations alive. He was more worried about the others. 

At the Helm in the front of the Bridge, Lt Bateheart spoke. "We're within visual range of where the transponder says they are, captain." 

"There _is_ something there," Harry said, "but I don't think it's the Sacajawea." 

"On screen," the captain ordered. When the image appeared on screen, the entire Bridge crew took in a sharp breath. 

In the cold nothingness of space, they all saw debris. Not the Sacajawea, as a whole, but small pieces of it were everywhere. Very small pieces. "It _is_ the Sacajawea," Harry confirmed in a stricken voice. "But not all of the debris is from the shuttle." He adjusted his sensors to get better results. "The other ship is -- was -- Kazon." 

***

A few hours later Voyager's senior staff had gathered in the Conference Room. The Doctor, of course, was only there by way of a commlink. Everyone had something to report, had led an investigation on some part of the deaths of their crewmates. B'Elanna, by analysing the debris itself, had done perhaps the most important part, but somehow she couldn't concentrate on Chakotay's words now. 

When she had first heard of Tom's death, she had been in Engineering, and she hadn't believed it. It had seemed absolutely absurd that Tom would be dead. She couldn't even imagine it. When Harry had told her what he had seen, she had started to doubt her strong conviction, but she had only truly started believing in Tom's death while analysing the debris. In her lunch-break, which she usually would have skipped, she had gone to her quarters and had cried. Cried! B'Elanna hadn't cried, not like this, since... She couldn't even remember the last time she had. 

Why would Tom's death make her hurt so, she wondered. He was probably the best friend she had ever had, once she'd gotten through his irritating exterior, but like most people in the Maquis she had known better than to grow to close to someone who might die in battle the next day. She hadn't really broken the habit since coming to Voyager: life was still full of dangers. 

But if Tom was dead, she wouldn't know what to do with herself. It was as if life had just lost everything that made it worth living. Was this the result of mere friendship? 

B'Elanna was shocked out of her reverie when Harry, who was sitting beside her, prodded her in her side with an elbow. Startled, she looked up from the table, realizing that captain Janeway was saying something -- to her, apparently. 

"I'm sorry, captain," she said. "What did you say?" 

The captain looked at her with that mixture of shared grief and motherly compassion that only she could muster. "I just asked you to give your report three times, lieutenant. Please try to pay a little more attention." Her words were stern, but not so her tone. 

"I'm sorry, captain," B'Elanna said. "We have been able to reconstruct what happened pretty well from the debris..." She continued to give a detailed description of what must have happened. It was really quite amazing how much could be told from a few chunks of alloys and plastics, but B'Elanna wasn't even thinking about what she was saying. She noticed that some of the others gave her strange looks, but she didn't care. 

From what B'Elanna and the other engineers had been able to tell, the Kazon vessel had dropped out of Warp on top of the Sacajawea, surprising her crew. Though evidence indicated that they had raised their shields nearly instantly, the Kazon had gotten a lucky hit on the shuttlecraft's Warp core, causing the core breach which had incinerated most of the shuttle and those in it. B'Elanna knew that of Tom and Seska, only some genetic material had been found. 

The Warp core breach was also responsible for destroying most of the Sacajawea's logs. Unfortunately for them, the Kazon's already heavily damaged ship had also been destroyed in the blast. 

"Was there no indication of the presence of the second Kazon vessel, of which we detected the Warp-trail, lieutenant?" a frowning Tuvok asked. 

B'Elanna absently shook her head. "Nothing," she said. 

The Doctor, on the commscreen, was also frowning. "Ms Torres," he asked, "wasn't the Sacajawea boarded?" 

Again B'Elanna denied it. "Why do you ask, Doctor?" captain Janeway asked the hologram. 

"Well," the EMH started, "as you know, I performed an autopsy on the remains of Lt Carey. Due to the extensive plasma burns and the effects of the exposure to the vacuum of space, it was an exquisite piece of work on my part to even positively identify the man, I must say. Despite all this --" Here the captain cleared her throat. "To be brief," the Doctor continued, a bit more hurriedly, "I have concluded that Mr Carey was killed by a shot from a hand-held phaser." 

All around the Conference Room, a shocked silence fell. 

_He's alive!_ B'Elanna thought. Irrational as thought was, suddenly there was no doubt in her mind. "What if the Kazon somehow captured Tom and Seska and destroyed the shuttle to hide the evidence?" she blurted out. 

It was a few nerve-wrecking moments before anyone spoke up. Ultimately Tuvok did. "I would say the matter is certainly worth investigating." The Vulcan looked at captain Janeway for approval. She nodded. 

* * *

**4**   
Tom groaned softly as he regained consciousness. When his head had cleared enough, he opened his eyes -- carefully, so he wouldn't be blinded by the sudden light. Soon Tom found that the gesture was unnecesary, because the room he was in was only very dimly lit. The room itself did not look familiar -- well, the technolgy _did_ have something familiar, but it was definitively not Federation -- and for one moment, Tom was glad that it wasn't Sickbay. 

The moment he saw Seska, Tom realized that the technology matched that of the wrecked Kazon vessel they had found -- and everything that had happened fell back into place in Tom's memory. 

He looked up at Seska, who was leaning casually against what looked like a console, and got up off the floor. He didn't get any higher than on sitting on his haunches, before he had to lean back against the wall for support. The effects of the phaser set on maximum stun hadn't worn off completely yet. "Seska, what the hell is going on!" Tom demanded, trying not to sound as shocked as he still was. 

A wicked smile formed on Seska's lips. "Oh, my poor Tom," she said sarcastically. "He has no idea of what's going on." 

"I think I have a pretty good idea by now," Tom replied. "You betrayed us to the Kazon." He could not really believe that, but he knew Seska well enough to know that he would find out the truth soonest by playing along. 

"Exactly, Helmboy," Seska said coldly, and Tom's mouth sagged open: he could tell from the woman's tone of voice that she was telling the truth. "But you don't have the faintest idea why, do you?" Seska continued. "How could your infatuated girlfriend ever betray the glorious Thomas Eugene Paris?" She grimaced. "I don't think I ever told you before, but that's a dreadful middle name, you know. 

"But I really should be thanking you, instead of making fun of you, Tom." As Seska was talking, she took a few steps forward, and then she kneeled to put her eyes on the same level as the pilot's, and she placed her hands on the sides of his head. "Over the years, you've given me so much information." She smiled evilly. 

"I'm sure I've given you a lot to think about," Tom responded suspiciously. _What on Earth is Seska talking about?_ he wondered silently. 

The Bajoran woman considered the helmsman's answer for a moment, and then shook her head. "To think about, yes," she said, "but not really for me, more for my superiors." 

Tom's eyes widened. He was stunned, and he leaned back on the wall he had been leaning on moments before because of the effects of when he was more liteally stunned. The pilot had just been trying to get to his feet again -- standing straight on them that is, but now his strength left him again. Meanwhile, Seska got back up easily and took a few steps away from him. "Your... superiors?" Tom asked hesitantly. 

Seska replied: "The Central Command. You know, of the people you were fighting?" Then she stopped walking, and half turned to show Tom her profile. She touched a hand to the ridges on her nose that marked her as a Bajoran. "All that information..." she said wonderingly, "it was even worth getting this nose for." 

Tom sat in silence for a minute, processing the incomprehensible data he had just been given. 

For that one minute, Seska didn't move. 

Then she suddenly rounded on her former boyfriend, and anger was written all over her face. "Curse it, Tom!" she practically yelled at him. "It didn't have to be like this! If you had just stayed firmly under my control, I wouldn't have had to deal with these filthy Kazon, and you wouldn't be in this mess! But no; you had to fall in love!" 

Tom had even less of an idea what the Bajoran woman -- no, the _Cardassian_ woman, he corrected himself mentally -- was talking about now than she had been a minute ago, but he knew that by losing her temper, Seska had also lost the advantage. He smiled -- in the way that he knew never failed to irritate Seska. 

"You know, Seska," he said, "I thought you'd lost track of things when you shot Carey. Now I'm certain. But don't worry: I may not be in love with anyone else, but I'll take special care not to love _you_ anymore." 

The woman stood there fuming for a few moments, and for a moment Tom thought that she was actually going to attack him. Fortunately, she got a hold of herself. The pilot was a bit amazed -- and not just by everything that Seska had told him just now. He didn't think he had ever seen Seska this upset before. She usually kept a tight reign on her emotions. In that, she'd always been the exact opposite of B'Elanna. 

As if she had heard Tom's thoughts, Seska spoke again, softly, threateningly. "That's probably the worst part of it all. You spoiled both our chances to perhaps even found an empire here in the Delta quadrant, and you don't even realize what you feel for the Torres-woman." She turned on her heels and stalked out of the room. Tom noted that two big Kazon were standing outside on the other side of the door. 

Tom smiled. It had been easy to get on Seska's nerves. If there was anything he had learned from the mess about Caldik Prime a while back, it was to take every small victory he could get. They would most often lead straight to larger victories. Considering how betrayed the helmsman was feeling, he needed every small victory he could get his hands on, and right now. Besides, it really _was_ rather funny. Seska might always have been a little paranoid, but now she had really gone over the edge. 

But all too soon Tom's smile faded. For some reason, that ridiculous idea that he would be in love with B'Elanna did not seem quite as ridiculous as it should have. 

***

"Captain," Harry said, "I've managed to determine in which direction the Kazon vessel's Warp trail is leading." 

The captain looked at him over her shoulder from her captain's chair. "Is there anything on the long range scanners, ensign?" she asked. 

Harry checked. "No ships or M-class planets in that direction, captain, but there are two asteroid belts which could be interfering with our scanners. No telling what's behind them -- or in them," he told his commanding officer. 

Without further delay, Janeway turned to the helmsman on duty. "Ensign Bateheart, lay in a course matching the Warp trail. Warp eight. We'll make sure the Kazon will remember never to abduct members of my crew again." 

"Aye, captain," came the reply almost instantaneously. "Course laid in." 

"Engage." 

As the stars on the viewscreen elongated into the stripes of Warp flight, Harry had to smile. Suddenly it seemed foolish to doubt that Tom was alive without having seen the body. B'Elanna was right: they would get their friend back. 

***

Seska smiled at the tall Kazon male. "Have you considered my proposal, maje Kullah?" she asked. 

"I have," he replied, "and I have discarded the idea." Seska felt her temper rise, but didn't let it show. Kullah was being stupid again, and she dreaded the task of convincing him of it. 

"But my maje --" she started. 

"No!" Kullah barked. "The Nistrim are strong, and they will not go to the other sects to beg for help!" Seska rolled her eyes. Fortunately she was standing behind the Kazon, and the high and mighty maje found himself too good to turn to look at a lowly woman. 

She stepped towards him and laid her arms on his shoulders. "Think of it, maje Kullah. The power of Voyager: stronger than an entire sect." She leaned forward and put her cheek against the side of his head. With one hand, she started to softly caress his chest. "No sect could take that ship on its own, but together..." 

Kullah grabbed her hand. "Enough. If I have to share Voyager's technology with the other sects, nothing will be gained." 

"Who said anything about sharing?" Seska asked innocently. Finally, a broad grin spread on Kullah's features. "I believe the maje of the Relorah is currently on a planet we'll be passing really close by," Seska suggested. 

***

When he heard the door opening, Tom quickly shoved the panel on the dead console back into place. Fortunately, the room where he was being held was still only dimly lit, so the guard couldn't tell what the pilot had been doing. Tom turned to the Kazon and leaned against the console. 

"More of the delicious Kazon cuisine?" Tom asked as the man put a plate on the ground. The guard only glared at him once before turning back and stalking out again. "I mean it, I swear!" Tom called after him. "You guys could teach Neelix a few things!" 

As the door slammed shut, Tom grinned. It had been two days since he had been imprisoned, and the effects of the phaser blast he'd caught had long since worn of, so he'd decided to put his time to good use. This room obviously wasn't an official holding cell -- Tom got the feeling that Kazon weren't very used to taking prisoners, so he surmised that Seska had plans for him yet. For one thing -- about the room -- it had a computer console in it. Of course, it had been disabled, but Tom had never let such things stop him before. He hadn't watched B'Elanna fix his navigational console all those times for nothing. _Seska, Seska,_ Tom thought, while going back to work, _that paranoia is really getting to your infamous sharpness._ He crossed another two wires, and the console suddenly lit up. 

Hurriedly Tom set off to send a message to Voyager. He had no doubt that Seska would find out sooner rather than later, and he still felt her right hook from the last time she'd visited, but it would be too late to stop prevent a short message out. "This is Tom Paris, calling Voyager," he said. 

* * *

**5**   
Harry frowned at his console. Then he tapped a few more buttons, and saw his suspicion confirmed. "Lt Torres," he said, "could you give me a hand?" B'Elanna had spent the entire shift so far on the Engineering console on the Bridge, helping in the search for Tom and Seska's captors. 

Captain Janeway turned to the young Operations officer as he spoke. "What is it, ensign?" she asked. 

"I'm not sure, captain," he said, and stepped aside to give B'Elanna some room at his console, "but I think that I received a fragment of a subspace message." At this, B'Elanna nodded. For a few minutes, the two friends worked on the transmission together. "Boost the carrier wave by .5?" Harry asked. B'Elanna grunted her agreement. Harry did what he had suggested, and they both smiled at the results he got. "We've got it, captain: it's a message, audio only." 

"Let's hear it," the captain ordered. 

Harry tapped a few more buttons, and a loud crackling noise suddenly roared across the Bridge. The Operations ensign winced, and quickly adjusted the message's volume. "It _must_ be from Tom," B'Elanna whispered to him. "Only he would produce such noise." 

"This is Tom Paris, calling Voyager," the message confirmed for the engineer. There still was a lot of static, but Tom's voice was understandable. "I've been taken prisoner by the Kazon. Seska sold me out to them. I repeat: Seska betrayed me to the Kazon. I believe Seska will attempt to lure Voyager into a trap. Be careful and get away as fast as possible!" There was a faint noise in the background, what must have been a door opening, and footsteps were heard rushing in. "And for tomorrow's weather --" Tom's voice continued calmly. Then the transmission ended abruptly with another loud noise. 

For a few moments, the Bridge on Voyager remained quiet. 

"Ensign," the captain said finally in her command voice, "were you able to trace the transmission?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good. Bateheart," captain Janeway continued, "adjust course to match. Maintain Warp eight. Cmdr Chakotay, you have the Bridge. I'll be in my ready room." Leaving behind a Bridge still stunned and shocked by the news of betrayal, she walked away. 

***

About a quarter of an hour later Kathryn Janeway was still trying to comprehend why a member of her crew would betray them, when the door chime buzzed. "Come," she said. When she looked up from her desk, she saw Chakotay come in. "What's the matter, Chakotay?" she asked. 

"I've been thinking," Voyager's first officer started hesitantly. "Paris told us to get away, and maybe he was right." Something must have shown in the captain's eyes, because Chakotay raised his hands defensively and hurried to defend his position. "I'm not saying we should just abandon him. Anyway," he muttered, "Seska probably had the Kazon ransack the Sacajawea for anything they could use, and we can't let them have our technology." For what must have been the _at least_ one millionth time, Kathryn wondered what could possibly have happened to make Tom and Chakotay despise each other so much. "But Seska _is_ probably setting a trap as we speak," the XO finished. 

"Not necessarily," the captain objected. "I don't think she meant for Tom to get that message out. I believe she is responsible for how we found the shuttle: perhaps she wanted us to believe that the entire team was dead, so that she would have more time to arrange things. Actually, we should strike as soon as possible." 

"I suppose," Chakotay agreed reluctantly. The two commanding officers sat opposite to each other in silence for a while. Then Chakotay spoke again, as hesitantly as he had before. "I don't suppose it would mean anything if I reminded you that Paris was the one who told us we could trust Seska?" 

Janeway frowned at him angrily. "Commander, that was beneath you." 

The American Indian sighed. "I know and I'm sorry," he replied. "But I just couldn't resist trying." 

One million and one times. At least. 

Seska wearily sat back in her chair. Guiding the Kazon to the right decision was a tedious process, especially since all three of the majes gathered didn't think she -- as a female -- had anything to say worth listening to. Fortunately they seemed to be headed for an alliance now, but that did by no means signify the end of Seska's problems. She still wasn't sure if enough of Tom's signal had gotten through to reach Voyager. She sighed. Had she had any decent Cardassian equipment, she would have known by now. And then she still had to get Tom's security codes for when she and Kullah would attack Voyager. She wished she had some solid Cardassian equipment to get them from the pilot, too, but she would just have to do without. Seska could hardly wait. 

* * *

**6**   
Four ships went to red alert at the same time. 

***

"What the hell?" Seska exclaimed on one of the three Kazon ships, the Nistrim's. Around her, the various Kazon all rushed to their battlestations. She, of course, had none. 

"It's the Voyager!" called a man from the Ops console. Seska was shocked, but after what Tom had done, not caught completely by surprise. While Kullah was shouting orders to fire all weapons, she moved to to Ops station and pushed the Kazon standing at it aside without hesitation. Quickly, she transmitted her security codes. They, while not having Tom's level of clearance, would still be enough to influence the unprepared Voyager's systems. 

***

"Status!" Janeway, standing in front of her chair on the Bridge, ordered. 

"I'm reading a Human and a Cardassian life sign on the center vessel," Kim reported, "but I can't lock onto them. Their shields went up immediately when we dropped out of Warp, and the targeting beam can't get through them." 

"Shields are holding," Tuvok stated at the Tactical station. "Shall I return fire?" 

"Hold for now," Janeway said. 

From the chair beside hers, Chakotay spoke. "We're receiving Seska's codes, as we anticipated." He grimaced. "Good thing we disabled them." 

_A good thing indeed,_ the captain thought. She frowned sadly. "Then Lt Paris must have been correct," she said in her most professional voice, to mask the pain she felt that came with being betrayed. At Chakotay's questioning glance, she nodded. 

Chakotay stood up. "Mr Tuvok, target the Kazon vessels: target the center one with our phasers, weapon systems and shield generator only. Photon torpedoes on the other two." He turned to the Conn. "Ensign Bateheart, go to evasive pattern Delta Seven." 'Yes Sir's sounded across the Bridge. 

***

"Now you will see that we can indeed harm Voyager," Kullah spoke smugly to his two fellow majes. He had seen Seska move to the console, and though he did not approve of the female taking her own initiative, her timing was good. He had nearly convinced the leaders of the Relorah and the Ogla sects to join their forces with his in the alliance he had conceived, but they had doubted that he really had a way to annihilate Voyager's shields. Now they would see. 

Kullah stumbled as his ship suddenly lurched. "What is going on!" he demanded, staring at Seska. "How can they still fire?" 

The Cardassian woman shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand. Their computer isn't accepting my codes." Then her head jerked up all of a sudden, and hate sparkled in her eyes like the crystal sands of Karahn. "Paris!" she said coldly, as if that one name explained everything. Obviously, Kullah did not understand. 

"Kullah," maje Abdar of the Kazon Ogla spoke -- disrespectfully, to Kullah's ears -- "you must take us out of here now. You will give us transportation to our own vessels as soon as we have lost Voyager. You're lucky that we will let you live." Kullah looked to maje Terbran for support, but it was clear that the man stood with Abdar. 

"It won't be necessary to wait that long," Seska spoke, and the maje of the Nistrim sect had been dealing with her long enough now to recognize the slyness in her voice. In a rare moment of insight, Kullah realized what she was talking about -- or so he thought. 

"Yes," he said casually, "that's right, the Nistrim appropriated a matter/energy-conversion transporter not long ago. It will take you back to your ships." Vaguely, Kullah thought he remembered Seska saying something about that this transporting could only be done succesfully when a vessel's shields were down, but he thought he must be wrong. Anyway, the two men would no doubt be suitably impressed by this display of technology. "Seska, 'beam' the majes to their ships," he ordered, and said to Abdar and Terbran: "I hope you will reconsider the alliance, my friends. Remember that Seska is only the lesser of my trumps..." When the three had left the Bridge, Kullah barked: "Helm! Stand ready to take us out of here as soon as Seska gives the signal." 

***

B'Elanna worked frantically to keep Voyager's shields operational at tolerable levels. "Nicoletti!" she yelled, as usually in Engineering, forgetting what her commbadge was for. "How are we doing?" 

"Shields are at 53%, chief!" her subordinate replied. "The Kazon's are at 39%, 73% and 47% respectively." Silently, B'Elanna cursed. She knew that if the situation got much worse, captain Janeway would take Voyager out of it. The chief engineer also realized that Janeway would have no choice, but that didn't help her. They just had to save Tom. It was all she could think of. 

"Lieutenant!" Nicoletti called suddenly. 

"What?" 

"Bridge says two of the Kazon vessels are breaking off their attack, and are preparing to go to Warp!" Quickly B'Elanna called up the external sensors' readings on her screen. It was true! Only the ship carrying Tom and that serpent Seska -- the one with the least shields left -- was stil firing, and Voyager was now concentrating her weapons fire on the one vessel alone. A feral grin spread across the half-Klingon woman's features. For whatever reason the two ships had stopped fighting, she did not care, but there was no way the last remaining hostile ship could withstand Voyager. 

Then B'Elanna was momentarily distacted by some strange reading from the Kazon ship. It seemed almost like a transporter being used. Half a second later, she had confirmed that it _was_, and realized that as Tuvok suspected, the Kazon had indeed taken more from the Sacajawea than just Tom and Seska. B'Elanna performed a quick scan, and found that two Kazon bodies had been beamed directly into the vacuum of space. 

The next moment the center Kazon vessel's Warp engines were powering up, and suddenly it was gone, vanished into Warp speed. Two seconds later both of the others had followed. The chief engineer nearly screamed in frustration. They had been so close, and now Tom was gone again. With effort, she remained in control of her feared temper. "Nicoletti! Jonas! Gerron!" she called to her three nearest subordinates. "Get repairs started on the shields! I'll be on the Bridge." She stalked away to the turbolift. 

***

It had been about three quarters of an hour since Tom had been shaken off his feet by what he could only assume was enemy fire. Though it may not have been 'enemy' fire for him. The helmsman wasn't quite sure whether to be happy or not if Voyager had come after him. That his shipmates had come so quickly would work in their advantage, but Tom was afraid that Seska might still be ready for them. Well, nothing to be done about it now, he guessed. 

He reckoned that whoever had fought with his captors couldn't have been caught completely by surprise, because Tom had felt the ship go to Warp in what appeared to be a hasty retreat. 

Suddenly the door swished open and Tom turned to find Seska stalking up to him with two big Kazon guards on her heels. The woman looked pissed. Tom smiled at her. She took a swing at him. He'd let her do that before, because he knew that his ex-girlfriend -- he still could hardly believe that this _Cardassian_ Seska was the same as that _Bajoran_ one -- had plenty of Kazon at her disposal to keep him in place for her if she needed them, but the pilot noticed the force behind this punch, and decided he didn't like it. He sidestepped her fist. She stumbled, unbalanced by the lack of impact. 

"Good evening to you, too, Seska," Tom said. He frowned. "It _is_ evening, isn't it?" 

Not surprisingly, neither Seska nor the guards replied. Instead, the woman stood panting out her anger for a few moments, and then she gestured for the Kazon to do something, and they immediately grabbed Tom and planted him firmly on one of the two chairs in the room and kept him there. Seska took another swing at him, and this time, there was nothing the helmsman could do. He bit his lip to keep from moaning. 

Then he shook his once to clear it. "Damn Seska," he said arrogantly, "you _know_ I'm proud of those teeth! Never had a cavity in my life, and now you try to knock them out!" 

After hitting him again, Seska took the other chair and sat down close in front of Tom. She leaned forward. "You told Voyager that I'm not on their side anymore," she stated in a dangerous tone. Tom noticed that she had taken something that reminded him of an ancient injection needle out of her pocket. 

"Well, essentially, I suppose that's true, but more precisely, I told them you are a stinking traitor with a racial identity crisis." Tom grimaced in pain when Seska planted the thing in his leg with a stabbing motion. He blinked. Suddenly, he felt a little dizzy. 

"In case you're wondering, Tom," Seska's voice was saying, "that was a Kazon truth serum. We need your security codes to access Voyager's computer." She took Tom's face in one hand and made him look at her. "But if I know you, you're not going to give in to something as simple as a serum," she said. Tom smiled broadly, and shook his head in agreement -- as best as he could, with the Cardassian grabbing his chin. Unfortunately, Seska smiled as well. "Good. Because I am positively _dying_ to do all sorts of things to you to make you talk." 

* * *

**7**   
"How dare you!" Kullah screamed. "How dare you do such a thing without my permission!" He backhanded Seska across her face. The Cardassian got up from the floor slowly, and wiped some blood from the corner of her mouth. She could barely contain her anger. She wasn't used to this! Back in the Alpha quadrant, she had always been allowed to act as she saw fit. She had earned that right! 

Kullah had just discovered what she had done to the two other majes, and he was obviously not very happy about it. But was that because he didn't approve or because _she_ had done it? Seska guessed that it was the latter. 

"But maje Kullah," she replied placatingly, "when I signed to you on the Bridge, did you not give your approval of my plan then?" With Kullah's IQ there was no way that he could have understood what she meant back then, but this way he could at least make himself believe that he was in complete control. 

The maje of the Kazon Nistrim frowned. "I suppose I did." 

Seska offered him a seducing smile, which never failed to get his attention. "And when word has spread of how the majes of two of the most powerful sects of the Kazon died for defying _you_, maje Kullah, who will dare to refuse you _anything_?" 

Kullah smiled absentmindedly, his thoughts on the glory he would soon gather. "No one will," he said. Then he suddenly noticed Seska's clothes. "What is that?" he asked. "On your clothes, is that blood?" 

Seska looked down to her clothes; she had almost forgotten about that. "Yes, my maje," she said, "it's the Human's blood. I've been... interrogating... him, so that you will have the real security codes for Voyager when you meet with the other majes." 

Kullah's eyes lit up at the prospect. "Yes, I think I will contact the Oglamar, and _all_ of the other sects. They will bow for me!" 

***

Tom winced when the guard shoved him forward, into the room. It had been three days since Seska had started 'interrogating' him, and he was nearing his limits. To tell the truth, the pilot was somewhat amazed at Seska's torture. Judging by what he had heard from the many true stories about Cardassian torture, he would have expected to be treated far worse. Perhaps he got on Seska's nerves too much with his remarks, so she couldn't concentrate. 

"... This is all the evidence that I am telling you the truth that you need," Tom heard Kullah's familiar voice say. He imagined that he must have looked like pretty convincing evidence that the mighty Voyagers were not untouchable. He looked up to see that the maje of the Nistrim was speaking to about half a dozen other Kazon -- and Seska was sitting in a corner, too -- but almost immediately a hand of the guard grabbing his neck from behind convinced him to look down at the floor again. Kullah continued. "This is Voyager's pilot, a high officer. We have his all of his codes! Voyager's shields will be useless against our weapons!" 

Surprised by these words, Tom looked up again. Fortunately, the guard didn't seem to be paying attention anymore, because there was no hand to push his head down this time. "Is that what Seska told you?" he asked. Kullah didn't seem very interested, but he _did_ turn and listen, and so did the other Kazon. "I really wonder how long it's been since she told the truth. Think she's forgotten how?" 

On the other side of the room, Seska fumed silently. She should have known that Tom would try to mess things up if they let him in here. She had indeed lied to Kullah about having his security codes, but with all of the firepower these majes could gather, it would hardly matter if she didn't manage to get them out of Tom in time. 

She studied Kullah. He appeared to be dismissing what Tom was saying without a second thought. Good. Unfortunately, the other majes were paying more attention. No matter. With her help, Kullah could actually be a bit charismatic: he would convince the others into joining him with his endless tales of the power they would gain. 

***

"Are you sure they were alive when they were beamed out into space?" captain Janeway asked. 

"Quite sure," the EMH replied over the emergency holographic channel. "And what is more, Mr Neelix came by to take a look at the bodies -- and I must say he was quite _un_professional about the corpses -- and he identified them as majes of Kazon sects. The Ogla and the Relorah, if I'm not mistaken." 

"Majes!" Janeway exclaimed. She leaned forward to her desktop display terminal, curious. "Could Kullah be forming an alliance against us?" 

"Mr Neelix suggested the same, but he seemed to dismiss the idea almost immediately, claiming it was unlikely. _I_ would think that it is quite clear that these majes are _not_ allied to the Nistrim. Why else would they be beamed into the vacuum of space?" 

"Perhaps Kullah was showing off his new technology," the captain said, frowning. "I'm certain the other Kazon in the Ogla and Relorah vessels were very impressed." She glanced at the chronometer standing on her desk. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she said, "but I have to go to the Bridge. We'll catch up on the ship that is holding Lt Paris captive in about thirty minutes." 

"Then I will prepare Sickbay in case we have casualties, captain," the Holodoc responded. 

"Very good." Captain Janeway turned of the commchannel and got up to walk onto the Bridge. "Report," she said while crossing the doorway. 

Chakotay got up out of the command chair and told her what was going on. "We'll have the Kazon on our normal sensors in a few more minutes," he said. "Don't worry, Kathryn," the XO continued, seeing the captain's frown, "that extra distance B'Elanna rigged for the long distance sensors may not seem very reliable, but she's convinced that the Kazon are there." Janeway nodded, conceding the point. 

"She was right," Harry Kim said from the Ops station, "they certainly are there, captain. I'm reading seven -- no, eight Kazon vessels at the coordinates we thought they would be." 

"All stop! Harry, have they seen us?" Janeway asked. 

"I don't think so, captain," the ensign replied. "They don't seem to be responding in any way." 

Captain Janeway breathed a sigh of relief. "There's no way we can defeat _eight_ ships," she softly stated the obvious to Chakotay. 

"Then perhaps we can outwit them?" the tattooed man replied. Janeway looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time we pulled something like that off." 

With new hope, the captain tapped her commbadge. "Senior staff report to the Conference Room." 

* * *

**8**   
B'Elanna wasn't about to give up now. "We can beam him out," she stated. 

"You weren't able to do so last time," Chakotay reminded her. "And besides, can we really risk dropping out of Warp in the middle of _eight_ Kazon vessels?" 

"But I've found a way to get Tom out through the interference! And I can beam Tom out while we're still at Warp," the chief engineer added. 

"At Warp speed?" the captain wondered. "Wait, let me guess -- it's a Maquis trick? Starfleet never tested transporting at Warp speeds, because of the extreme risks." 

"But even Starfleet says that it's theoretically possible, captain," Harry joined in, backing up his friend. "And that they haven't done anything doesn't mean nobody has." 

"Harry's right, captain," B"Elanna said. "I have done it before. And is the risk really so much larger than attacking a force of eight ships, or that of leaving Tom in the hands of _Seska_ and the Kazon?" 

Captain Janeway looked around the table and saw the determination on the faces of her senior staff. Only Tuvok and Chakotay appeared less enthusiastic. Janeway sighed. "All right, we'll give it a try." 

***

"Bridge to Transporter Room One," the captain's voice sounded through the intercom. 

B'Elanna tapped her commbadge and replied. "Here, captain. We're ready on this end." She and Harry had been making slight modifications to the targeting subroutines in the transporter to adjust for the difference in momentum the target -- Tom -- would have opposed to Voyager. 

"Acknowledged," captain Janeway said. "I'm rerouting the sensor data we're getting to your console. We'll enter maximum range in four minutes, seven seconds, at Warp one. Good luck." 

"Thank you, captain. Torres out." The half-Klingon exchanged a glance with Harry, who was standing beside her. 

"We'll get him," they both said simultaneously. Then they laughed. "We will," Harry said. Then the panel beeped when it made contact with the exterior sensors, and the two friends fell silent as they saw the Kazon ships draw nearer. 

Several minutes later the action began. 

"I'm reading one Human lifesign on one of the vessels," Harry confirmed. "Attempting to lock on... The targeting beam isn't getting through the interference. B'Elanna -- you're on." 

"I'm working on it," the half-Klingon engineer said. She was sitting on the floor, working on a portable LCARS console attached directly to the transporter itself. "There! That should do it," she called enthusiastically. 

"Uh... I'm not having any more success now, B'Elanna," the Operations ensign replied. 

"What?" the chief of Engineering jumped to her feet.. 

"I said that --" Harry started. 

"I heard what you said!" B'Elanna roughly shoved her friend aside to get to his console. Agitatedly, she started punching buttons, but it had no effect. Tom was still as unreachable as he had been the previous time Voyager confronted his Kazon prison-ship. "That _cow_ Seska must have realized what I was doing last time and have changed their shields' delta-modulation! But I can break this one too." 

The young ensign gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "B'Elanna," he spoke sadly, "we're flying past those ships at Warp speed. You worked on a way through their old shield modulation for an hour and a half. There's nothing you can do." Startled, B'Elanna found that she had to choke back tears before she could reply. She couldn't stand the fact that all her attempts to reach Tom kept amounting to nothing -- or the fact that that all was _Seska_'s fault. 

Then, suddenly, she lost her chance to reply at all, when the ship rocked violently. The two friends flew over the transporter console and landed with a bang on the floor in front of it. B'Elanna grunted as one of Harry's legs landed on her stomachs. "What the -- !" 

"We've dropped out of Warp!" 

They were interrupted when the intercom chirped. "Bridge to all hands," Chakotay's voice boomed, "those of you who aren't there yet: battle stations! We're engaging hostiles." 

***

Captain Janeway turned on Lt Dalby. She was furious, though not at him. "Dalby! What just happened?" 

"I... I don't know, captain," the former Maquis replacing ensign Kim at the Operations console stammered. "We were hit by some sort of... of... gravitonic beam, coming from one of the Kazon vessels, and then we just dropped out of Warp. I can't explain it, ma'am." 

"Captain," the Vulcan Security chief interrupted, "the Kazon vessels are powering their weapon systems and raising their shields." 

"Do the same for us, Tuvok," Chakotay joined in. He tapped his commbadge. "Chakotay to Kim and Torres. I want you on the Bridge _now_!" 

"We're already on our way, Sir," B'Elanna's voice replied over the commlink. 

Meanwhile, the captain had taken a few steps towards the Helm. "Ensign Kaplan, can we get out of here?" 

The young woman shook her head, not slowing her frantic attempts to make her console do something. "Warp engines aren't doing _anything_, and the impulse drive is sluggish. The only thing really reliable that we've got are manoeuvering thrusters." 

Just when Voyager suddenly shook violently when the Kazon began firing the turbolift doors at the back of the Bridge opened and the ship's senior Operations and Engineering officers spilled out. "Harry, B'Elanna!" the captain yelled. "Get us a way out of here! Tuvok, return fire, all phaser banks and torpedo bays!" Silently, Kathryn cursed. The situation did not look good. Perhaps Tom had been right in his message, and they should not have given Seska the opportunity to lure them into a trap. 

***

"Damn you, Seska! What are you waiting for? Their shields are holding! Send those codes now!" 

"Yes, my maje," the Cardassian answered docilely to Kullah's tirade. She pressed some buttons on the console that the maje had assigned her to to make it look like she was obeying, but in truth, she still hadn't been able to get Tom's security codes from him. Inwardly, though, she was smiling broadly. It was amazing what such primitive technology could accomplish -- if it was handled by a properly educated mind, like hers. Imagine that, pulling a Federation starship straight out of Warp! Kullah would have her hide for this when he realized what she had done, but the opportunity had simply been too good to let pass. 

Then a gruff voice sounded from behind her -- it was Kullah's first officer. "Brace for impact!" he called out. Seska took a firm hold on her console just in time to avoid being thrown across the Bridge, like Farlec, the first officer, was. Unfortunately, when she looked back at her console, she saw a reading indicate that a plasma conduit was rupturing right behind it. 

Seska quickly put her arms in front of her face, and threw herself out of her chair sideways, but she was not fast enough to miss the explosion completely. 

Slightly singed and more than slightly dazed, the Cardassian woman lay on the floor when the damage report came in. "One of their photon torpedoes broke through a weak part of our shields. Direct hit to Deck eleven. Hull breaches on Decks nine through fourteen. Casualty reports are coming from everywhere!" The reports became more panicked as they went on. 

_Decks nine though fourteen!_ Seska suddenly realized. Her Tom was being held on Deck thirteen. She didn't stop to consider that he might be dead, but instead was certain that he would use this to his advantage. Still dazed, she got to her feet, leaning on the remains of her console for support. She took a disruptor from a dead or unconscious Kazon lying on the deck nearby and while Kullah was issuing orders to coordinate the battle with the other ships, Seska hurried off the Bridge. 

***

_And to think that I always thought those back-up stations were a waste of space!_ Tom thought while working the unknown Kazon controls to get a clear view of the situation. The lock on the door to his cell -- along with most of the systems in his section of the ship -- had sizzled with electricity for a few moments after the big bang, which had felt like a torpedo hitting at least, and then had gone to lock heaven. 

The helmsman had seen his chance and grabbed it immediately. He wasn't feeling very well thanks to Seska's interrogating sessions, but nothing was hurt bad enough to keep him in his cell. The door had opened easily now, and the only Kazon nearby, who must have been guarding him, had died in an explosion. Unfortunately, the explosion also appeared to have taken the guard's disruptor with him. Tom had hurried through the corridors away from where Seska and the others might start their search for him, and to where he could find a computer terminal. Soon, he found the Tactical station where he was now. 

"Aha!" he exclaimed when he finally got the console to cough up the information he needed. The pilot wasn't entirely surprised when a picture of Voyager appeared on the small screen, but when he saw the number of Kazon vessels opposing his ship, his eyes widened. "Whew," he whistled. "They must want me back _really_ badly." In his mind though, Tom recognized that Seska must have set a trap, like he had expected. Voyager wasn't taking bad damage yet, but her shield were dropping as he watched. 

The Nistrim ship he was on seemed to be in a much worse shape, though. Shields at 20%, and hull breaches on half of the Decks. Weapon systems were barely doing anything either, but Tom noted that the vessel was still emitting some sort of beam towards Voyager which he didn't recognize. 

"Computer," he said, "identify the beam emitted from Deck four, section seven." 

"The beam emitted from that point of the ship is a gravitonic beam, programmed with an alpha carrier wave of 37.4, a beta --" the Kazon computer's monotone voice told him. 

Tom interrupted it. "Skip it. What does it do?" 

"The gravitonic beam theoretically disables a starcraft's ability to enter Warp speed. However, this theory has yet to be proven correct." 

"Like Seska cares," the pilot mumbled. He was starting to see how the clues he had picked up fit together. Quickly, he continued talking, not giving the computer a chance to give its version of the Starfleet computer's 'Please restate your question.' "Computer, I don't suppose I can deactivate the thing from here?" 

"Affirmative." 

"Affirmative that I can or affirmative that I can't?" Tom asked. There were a few seconds of silence as the computer mulled this over. Tom smiled, wishing he had more time, so he could talk this computer into insanity, but he hadn't. 

"The gravitonic beam cannot be deactivated from your current position," the computer said finally. 

"Why am I not surprised. Computer, give me a map of this part of the ship and show me the way to the closest place where I _can_ deactivate the beam." A picture of a normal Kazon vessel appeared on-screen, and quickly dissolved into a mass of lines signifying her corridors. The room that Tom was looking for wasn't far off, and after memorizing the shortest route, he hurried to it. 

***

Seska tried to check her portable scanner one more time to confirm that she was heading in the same direction that Tom had, but she had to lean heavily against the wall as the corridor suddenly spun. She had noticed from the blood trickling into her eyes that she had hurt her head worse than she'd thought at first. 

This time around, though, the Cardassian suddenly realized that it wasn't her injury that was causing the spinning, as she was thrown into the air and slammed back onto the deck. The clear part of her brain told her that Voyager undoubtedly had targeted the gap in Kullah's ship's shields, and she knew that this shot would have most likely crippled the vessel. If Kullah had any brains, he would withdraw from the battle. Seska was afraid that he might not. 

As fast as she could, she got back to her feet and staggered down the corridor. The Kazon scanner the Cardassian woman was holding quickly led her through a few more corridors, and then to a room, which she vaguely recognized as a control junction. She had halted at the entrance to catch her breath when an all too familiar voice caused her hate to burn the haze off her mind. 

"Come on, you damn machine," she heard _him_ say agitatedly, "turn off, will you. Where's B'Elanna with her Klingon curses when you need her?" 

The mention of her rival drove Seska over the edge, and she jumped into the doorway, her disruptor raised, yelling, "Tom!" It might have been better if she hadn't _jumped_, though. The ship seemed to spin around her again, and though he had to look around in surprise first, Tom managed to dodge her first volley of shots. Instead of hitting their intended target, the shots blasted large holes in the machinery Tom had been working on. 

The two former lovers both stood frozen while the computer spoke. "Warning: the gravitonic generator has been damaged. Unable to maintain coherent gravitonic beam." 

In a split second, Seska realized what her Tom had been attempting to do, and, in effect, what _she_ had done now. With the generator off-line, Voyager would be able to escape into Warp and outdistance the Kazon easily. 

A split second was all Tom needed. "Thanks for the help," he said in his annoyingly cocky fashion, and dodged into a corridor. Seska sent another barrage of disruptor fire after him, but to no avail. 

Screaming in rage, Seska sped after Tom, firing at him almost continuously. The wild chase went on for minutes -- Seska couldn't be sure for how many -- and she never caught more than a glimpse of the pilot disappeared around yet another corner. She _would_ get him! Seska's rage, combined with her head injury made it near impossible for the Cardassian to think straight. She did wonder, though, why, throughout the ship as she chased Tom, she didn't run into any of the Kazon crew. 

"Seska!" a voice called to her from a side corridor. She stumbled to a halt and nearly shot the owner of the voice before she realized it was Kullah. Once she stopped running, Seska discovered that she could hardly stay on her feet. "I have looked for you everywhere," the maje complained. "We are leaving: our Warp core is about to breach, and everyone else has already gone to the escape pods." 

"No," Seska objected weakly, "I have to get Tom. He went that way." 

"You are delirious." He gestured at the blood streaming down her face. "I saw the prison block, and there is nothing of it left! Your Paris is dead!" He grabbed her arm. 

"No, I can't let her have him," Seska muttered, almost incomprehensible to her own ears. Kullah jerked her arm to pull her in the direction of their escape, and she tried to resist, but instead fell to the ground. Seska noticed only half-consciously how the maje of the Kazon Nistrim picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and carried her away. 

***

"Port shields are down to 9%. Starboard to 11%." Somehow, in his emotionless voice, Tuvok still managed to convey that he thought they _really_ needed to get out of there. Voyager shuddered. "Direct hit and hull breach on Deck thirteen. Emergency forcefields are holding. More casualties are on their way to Sickbay." 

"Harry, B'Elanna!" the captain yelled, nursing the arm she had injured falling. "Tell me you've got something!" 

"Nothing, captain. We -- Wait! The gravitonic beam just went out! We can go to Warp!" 

"Helm --" captain Janeway began to order. 

"No!" B'Elanna yelled, startling even herself. "Captain, the ship that's holding Lt Paris has lost shields. This is our chance to get him out. We may never get another." 

Janeway considered it for a moment, dreading the decision. She had to get her crew out alive, but what if they could accomplish what she had put them in danger for in the first place as well? "You have two minutes," she decided. 

Harry turned to the turbolift doors instantly, but the half-Klingon engineer grabbed his shoulder. "No time," she grunted. "Torres to Transporter Room One. Two to beam to your position!" Immediately the purplish light surrounded the lieutenant and the ensign and the Bridge started to fade. The could just hear captain Janeway order Helm to prepare the Warp engines before the familiar sight of the Transporter room where they had been working so shortly before started to take shape around them. 

B'Elanna immediately rushed to the portable console that was still attached to the transporter, while Harry dismissed the ensign on duty. 

"I've got a lock. Harry, get him out of there!" the chief engineer ordered. The young ensign replied eagerly by activating the transporter. B'Elanna got up and stood in front of the transporter padd. 

Harry's commbadge chirped, and Chakotay's voice spoke. "Ensign Kim: ten seconds before we're leaving." 

"We've got him, commander." Harry smiled as he saw his friend materialize before him. The pilot had obviously been running when the transporter beam caught him, and he stumbled to a halt. 

The Ops officer watched in silent astonishment when Tom fell headlong into B'Elanna, who caught him, and while the two of them shared a long kiss. That kiss did _not_ mean 'I'm glad you got back alive, my friend'. It was a while before Harry could speak again. "Did I miss something?" 

* * *

**9**   
"It all ended well, really, all things considered," captain Janeway was saying to her XO. They were sitting in their customary places on the Bridge, enjoying the first quiet shift in over two weeks, now that all priority repairs had been dealt with. "We got our best pilot back, and thanks to the Warp core breach the Nistrim's ship suffered, the Kazon don't have a scrap of our technology left." 

Tom, finally sitting at his favorite station again after far too long, smiled over his shoulder at the captain at the compliment -- even if he knew that he more than deserved it, of course. Turning back to his console, the helmsman's eyes passed the Engineering station, where B'Elanna was sitting, and stuck there like glue. B'Elanna was staring at him, too. He wondered how he could have been so blind for so long -- and he wasn't thinking about Seska now. 

***

Kathryn noticed her chief pilot's attention straying from what he was doing. Given his reasons, she could forgive him, but she still had to do something about it. "Mr Paris," she said, "isn't that a meteorite dead ahead?" 

Tom's head literally shot back to his sensor data, and the look on his face when he found absolutely nothing to substantiate the captain's suspicion was priceless. Captain Janeway nearly fell out of her chair laughing, and she wasn't the only one on the Bridge having that problem. After a few moments, even Tom joined in himself. It was good to be doing this: everyone was still far too tense from the past crisis. 

"This is all very well, Mr Paris, but _do_ try to keep paying attention." Chakotay grunted his agreement with her words. 

Tom had obviously heard, and couldn't stand letting the commander get away with anything. "Learn from my mistakes, Chakotay," he said. "Don't fall in love with someone you have to work with on the Bridge: it pisses off the captain." Kathryn sighed inwardly. She didn't know what Tom was referring to or why her first officer was turning so red in the face, but she did know that now she would be wondering what the grudge between the two men was about for the rest of her shift -- again. 

"Captain," ensign Kim spoke up unexpectedly, "we're being hailed, on a Starfleet frequency. Wait," he continued, sounding disappointed, "it's Seska." 

The captain saw Lt Paris flinch at the mention of his former lover. "Put her on-screen, Harry," she said in a tight voice. Seska's false Bajoran face appeared on the screen. "Seska," captain Janeway greeted coldly. "I see that you have survived the recent demise of your ship. We were in some doubt about the matter." 

***

Ignoring captain Janeway completely, Seska turned instead to the Helm, and adressed Tom. "Hiya, Helmboy. It's so good to see you again." 

The pilot treated her with a false smile. "I would say the same, but I'll leave the lying to you." 

The Cardassian seemed to ignore the remark, but when she continued, her voice dripped poison. "I don't have much time before we'll be out of communication range, Tom, but I have some good news which I really _have_ to share with you." 

Tom raised an eyebrow. "And that would be..." 

"You're going to be a _father_!" 

For several moments, absolute silence reigned on the Bridge of Voyager. Finally, Tom stuck a finger in the air. "Eh... I don't want to be difficult or anything," he said, clearly completely embarassed that he was saying this, "but every time we... well, you know... every time, we _both_ made certain that something like this wouldn't happen." 

"Indeed we did, dearest," Seska responded slyly, "but that didn't stop me from collecting some... samples... from you while you were my and Kullah's guest and impregnating _myself_ with them." She smiled evilly. "Well, I have to go now, but I expect I'll see you in about... nine months?" 

Then the commlink was terminated from the Kazon end before Tom could reply. Not that he would have been able to say anything with his mouth hanging open wide as it was, just like that of every single person on the Bridge -- always excepting Tuvok, of course. _Yes,_ Tom thought, _yes, I think we will meet again. In nine months._   
  
  


TO BE CONTINUED

  
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

Since I claim that Paramount owns Star Trek, Voyager and everything in and on it, I also disclaim any claims I might have on that ship which is way out of this world (and quadrant). But I do claim my right to claim all claims on this story, and I disclaim all claims Paramount might claim on it. By the way, this story is just for fun, not profit etcetera etcetera. I borrowed ensigns Simms and Hudson from the P/T Collective (thank you) and disclaim any rights there are to claim on them. 

Beta-read thanks go out to Maaike van Eekelen 


	4. Child of Hatred

**STAR TREK: VOYAGER   
SCHISMS**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk 

An Alternate Universe adventure in four parts.

  
  


* * *

  


**CHILD OF HATRED**

  
**1**   
Tom awoke with a start. He sat up in bed and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. _Damn,_ he thought. _that's the third time this week, and it's only the second night of the week!_ Beside him, B'Elanna stirred. The pilot looked at her beautiful face and saw that she had opened her eyes. "Sorry I woke you," he apologised. 

"'S all right," she replied sleepily. "Were you dreaming about _her_ again?" There was no doubt who B'Elanna meant. Seska. The traitor. Her rival, in a way. Tom nodded. He had discovered early on in their relation that it was little use trying to hide the truth about anything from her. That insight had saved his ego on more than one occasion. "You shouldn't let her bother you," she admonished him, but they both knew those words were empty. It had been almost four months since Voyager had last heard from Seska and her Kazon allies, and nearly nine since Seska had revealed her true heritage, that of a Cardassian, and since she had left Voyager. Almost enough time for their -- Tom's and Seska's -- child be ready to be born. 

It was rather obvious that that was what had precipitated Tom's dreams, though the babies and little children running around in them were a good hint, too. The pilot hardly saw himself as a father -- he wouldn't wish himself onto _any_ child -- but somehow he doubted Seska and the Kazon would be anything better of an option. 

B'Elanna sat up beside him and put her arms around him. "C'mon," she urged him, "think of something else and try to get some more sleep, or you'll fall asleep at the Conn tomorrow." 

Tom smiled at the mental image, and sighed. "I suppose you're right." 

"Of course I am," his love said in a fair approximation of the EMH's snottiness. Smiling, Tom snuggled up close to her and swiftly returned to sleep. Perhaps it was because of her presence, and perhaps not, but he rested peacefully for the rest of the night. 

***

"Are you awake, Mr Paris?" Chakotay asked in that mocking tone he had reserved just for Tom. 

"Barely. After all, I'm having to listen to _you_ giving orders." Tom spoke softly, because if the commander overheard what he said, the pilot would sure as hell go on report. Nevertheless, Chakotay must have heard that he said _something_, and guessed that it wasn't very complimentary, because he looked a bit annoyed when Tom peeked over his shoulder. 

"Is there a problem, lieutenant?" the Indian asked. Why did he always have to be so irritating? Tom knew, or at least suspected, that he was the one at fault today, but that didn't make him feel any better about Chakotay. 

"Should there be, commander?" he countered. It was exactly the kind of reply that would get on Chakotay's nerves. Suddenly the slight tension that always accompanied even the quietest of Bridge shifts increased, and Tom knew he shouldn't have said those last few words. 

"Give me a straight answer, Paris, or don't give me one at all." 

"If you don't mind then, I'll just be quiet." The words had left Tom's mouth before he could stop them. There was a sudden sharp intake of breath around the Bridge, and Tom could almost _feel_ his friend Harry wince at the Operations station. Unfortunately, seated in the front at the Helm, Tom could see none of it, not even Chakotay's face. 

Then, before the inevitable could happen, the door to the captain's ready room slid open and Janeway half stepped out. "Cmdr Chakotay, can you come to my ready room for a moment?" she asked. She seemed to be preoccupied, and didn't appear to notice what was going on on the Bridge. 

"Of course," Chakotay replied almost automatically, and with one final glare at the pilot, he followed the captain. _Janeway to the rescue!_ Tom thought, smiling wryly. He was reminded of more than one occasion where the captain had come to save him and others. Never before was it from her own first officer, though. 

Tom could still feel the eyes on his back, but he pretended they weren't there and started a routine diagnostic. 

***

"What's the matter, captain?" Chakotay asked, sitting down. Kathryn had motioned him to the couch instead of the chairs at her desk, which told him that this would most likely be good news rather than bad. He could use some of it just to calm his nerves. _What_ had got into Paris? Chakotay was tempted to think that nothing had, that this was simply how the younger man was: annoying as hell. Still, Chakotay was trying not to make such quick judgements, and he had made a promise to B'Elanna Torres to at least _try_ to get along peacefully with the pilot, so he would think about it before drawing any conclusions 

"I was reviewing the update Neelix wrote on his report on this part of the quadrant after his visit to that space station we passed two weeks back. We will want to build up some supplies, because we have a decidedly barren sector coming up ahead of us." She finally looked up from the datapadd she was holding. "There is a world, called Pelltag, only a few days away at maximum Warp, which Neelix heard has had some economic success in the past few years, and we can get what we want there." The captain smiled at her first officer. "It also appears to be ideal for shore leave." 

That evoked a returning smile from Chakotay. "That we could certainly use. The Holodecks are starting to get boring. When I manage to reserve some time on them, that is." 

Kathryn nodded. "I agree completely. I'll give you and Tuvok the information so you can take a look at it." 

"Thank you," Chakotay replied. 

Then the captain looked at him sternly. "Good," she said. "Now, what was going on on the Bridge when I came out there a minute ago?" 

Chakotay was surprised, though he probably shouldn't have been -- he hadn't thought Kathryn had caught the tension. But he had decided to keep an eye on Paris by himself for a while first. He knew himself well enough to realise that if he spoke to Kathryn about the matter, he would sound hateful. "It was nothing, really," he told the captain. She raised a doubtful eyebrow, but apparently she was going to let him get away with it this time. 

***

A plate clattered down on the table in front of Tom. The food on it didn't budge: it trembled a little, but it stuck tight to the plate. "What the targ happened on the Bridge?" B'Elanna demanded to know angrily. 

Tom grimaced. "Harry told you about it, didn't he?" 

"Harry?" she exclaimed incredulously. "Tom, everyone who was on the Bridge when it happened is talking about it to whomever they can find!" 

The tall man shrugged. "At least people might be able to figure out what _really_ happened when they get multiple versions." 

B'Elanna sighed and sat down opposite to him. She put her hand on his. "Tom, will you please be serious? What happened? I thought the two of you had made _some_ degree of peace." The tone of her voice told Tom that she was honestly worried, and it gave him enough pause not to reply with another bad joke. 

"I'm agitated about Seska and... you know." His child. For some reason, Tom was afraid to say those two simple words out loud. "I took it out on Chakotay. And I can't even promise you it won't happen again." 

The half-Klingon engineer sighed, almost regretting the fact that she'd taught Tom not to lie to her, but she smiled nonetheless. "Life with you is never boring, is it?" 

He returned the smile. "That's why you love me." 

* * *

**2**   
Seska had known Tormah was coming long before he knocked on her door, but she kept him waiting for half a minute anyway. With this particular young Kazon, the Cardassian had discovered, it was important to provide a sense of danger -- if she let him get bored, Tormah might desert her. Of course, there was no real danger of discovery, since Seska as good as owned the Security officer watching this part of the ship, but the pretence was enough. 

When she decided she had waited long enough, Seska deactivated the console showing an image from the security camera outside her door and went to answer the knocking. "Who's there?" she called. 

"It's Tormah," a whisper came back. Seska quickly opened her door and closed it again the moment the Kazon had entered the room. Then she smiled at him conspiratorially. 

"I take it that you have news?" the woman asked. 

Tormah nodded enthusiastically. He was still very young, and Seska's schemes held no limit of excitement for him. "Wuman of the Kazon Oglamar has sent a reply to our proposal on the secure channel. He accepts." Now Seska showed a genuine smile. Only half aware of what she was doing, she put a hand on her bulging stomach, feeling for her now nearly full-grown baby. With Wuman and the Oglamar in her hand, the Cardassian now had people working for her in six of the mightiest Kazon sects, including Kullah's Nistrim. She controlled them all through different agents, like Tormah -- each of whom of course thought they were Seska's sole partner in a unique tactical alliance. Except for her husband, Seska hadn't approached any of the sects' majes. Instead she had chosen for key officers on their flagships. Those people she could deal with in a much less conspicuous way, and in most cases offered her more complete control. 

"That's good," she said. "Very good." Abruptly the Cardassian's euphoria was reigned in when she realised something else. Not a dull moment, that was the key to Tormah. Seska hadn't expected Wuman to agree to her offer quite so soon, and hadn't prepared new work for Tormah. Her mind raced. "I want you to contact Wuman again when you can do it safely, Tormah. Speak to him and work with him to make an exact map of the strength and location of all Oglamar ships and colonies." That would probably keep the young Kazon occupied until Seska required anything further of him: Wuman would have to be further convinced to reveal so much of his sect's strengths and weaknesses, the plan would have to be updated constantly, and the times Tormah had free access to the communications array were limited. 

"You can count on me," the young Kazon said, nodding eagerly. 

Once Tormah had left, Seska breathed a sigh of relief that the man was gone. Working with Kazon, naive in the primitive way that they were, was tiresome, even as it offered opportunities enough to satisfy even _her_ lust for power. Seska noticed a light flashing on her desk console, indicating that there was a message waiting for her. Walking over to the desk, she flipped a switch, and the message began playing. 

"Lady Seska," a low voice started. It was Gerkil, a Nistrim technician from below on the planet. The Cardassian had simply told him that she carried secret orders from maje Kullah, and he'd not questioned her further. "Your guest has arrived, and is awaiting your presence _impatiently_," Gerkil continued, stressing the last word. 

Seska smiled. After all these months of careful scheming, her plans were finally reaching their final stages. Oh, all the power she had gathered -- she was arguably the most powerful person for several thousands of lightyears in any direction -- was pleasurable, no doubt, but all she had gathered, Seska had for one sole purpose: she wanted to bring the father of her child to her to witness the birth of their child, or if he missed the birth, at least the child itself. And she wanted that sight to be the last thing he ever saw. 

Tapping some buttons, Seska cleared a shuttlecraft to ferry her down to the planet immediately. 

***

"Well, it's about time someone showed up," the bounty hunter complained. The woman looked almost human, but Seska noted that the bones of her bare, crossed arms stuck out of her skin, forming a ridge. Seska had only once before encountered a Dismalian, and it had cost nearly a dozen Kazon considerable effort to kill him. "You kept me waiting. I don't like waiting. When I'm unhappy, my prices go up." 

The Cardassian woman smiled pleasantly. She didn't care overly much about material wealth anymore, and Kullah had enough to squander anyway. "My apologies," she said smoothly, "but certain people needn't be aware of your new job, if you understand what I'm saying." The bounty hunter nodded. Secrecy was not exactly unusual in her line of work. 

"Now," Seska said, "Ms Wystria, I've heard that you are the best there is at what you do." 

"That's right," the Dismalian agreed with calm confidence. "Actually, you are lucky that I happened to be in this sector. Usually I operate in the sectors surrounding Jeekar alone." 

Seska nodded. "I am aware of that, and grateful that you could come. Believe me when I say that the reward will be well worth your effort." 

"I'm listening." 

"There is a man," Seska said, her eyes gleaming with hatred and desire. "I want him. Alive. It won't be easy. He travels in a large starship called Voyager. You've probably heard the tales and the rumours, and the worst -- for us anyway -- are likely to be true. Their security is tight, you won't get in unnoticed." She grimaced, remembering Tuvok. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. _Has that Vulcan continued working on that holoprogram of his yet? Then perhaps security isn't as tight as it was in his hands anymore._ It didn't really matter, because boarding Voyager secretly would still be impossible, or close enough to it. "But," she continued, "Janeway often sends out people on away missions or shore leave, and he is among those as often as not." 

Wystria waved a hand in dismissal. "You leave all that to me. All I need to know is how much I'm getting paid. And one more thing, maybe," she added grudgingly. "Do you know the approximate location of this Voyager? It would spare me some time searching." 

Seska smiled. In the business of information, she was queen and empress. "I know their every change in course and speed minutes after they engage it." 

***

Deep in thought, Kullah watched as the shuttle carried his wife and unborn child back up to his flagship Kariph II from the surface. The maje had found out that she had been meeting with someone, even if he didn't know who. 

Yes, Kullah knew all about Seska's scheming. Or at least the fact _that_ she was doing it. 

But the Kazon was confident that Seska wouldn't do anything to harm him or the sect. And even if she tried, he would stop her. Nevertheless, doubts gnawed at him. On a level beneath his conscious mind, the maje suspected that if his spouse would do such a thing, she would be very successful in her attempt to leave him clueless. 

* * *

**3**   
B'Elanna was humming a song while she searched her wardrobe for something to wear on shore leave. She wondered for a moment what song it was, and decided that it was one of Tom's twentieth century things. That thought brought a smile to the half-Klingon's face. The pilot was certainly having a strong influence on her and her life. Then she frowned. If Tom hadn't insisted, at least she wouldn't be having this trouble finding a dress now. She probably would simply have worn her uniform. 

But B'Elanna had to admit it would do her good to shed her uniform -- and with it her responsibilities as Chief engineer -- while they were taking shore leave on Pelltag. She didn't exactly have a broad choice of dresses, and ultimately decided on the red one. Tom adored it, and she had to admit that she looked awfully nice in it. 

Just when she'd put on the dress, her doorbell chimed. "Come on in," she called. When she turned, she could see Tom and Harry walking in. 

"Hi there," Tom said, making no effort to hide how his eyes were roving over her. As much as the half-Klingon enjoyed the sensation, it annoyed her as well. "Hi yourself," she told the pilot. "Tom, why do you want me to dress like this? I can't run. I can barely even walk in it!" 

A lopsided grin appeared suddenly on Tom's face. "That's the whole point," he claimed. "I'm not letting you escape this time, Ms Torres." 

Harry shook his head amusedly. "Whatever," he said. "I'm just here to see you guys off." 

"Actually," the taller man admitted, "I asked him to help me. The _two_ of us ought to be able to get you to the Transporter Room without 'just one more check on Engineering'." 

"Come on, let's go," Harry urged. "It's time you get some R&R. The both of you, you workaholics." 

***

Captain Janeway noticed the signal that her first officer was trying to give her, and stepped out of the mass of people at the reception with him. It was a planetary holiday that day, but while her crewmembers were spread out across the capital city and seemingly countless parties, the captain and her highest ranking officers were required to stay at the more formal gathering in the presidential residence. Raising her crystal glass, she said to Chakotay: "So far, we're being received fairly well, wouldn't you say?" 

"Call me paranoid," the Indian replied, "but I think we're being received a little _too_ well." 

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What makes you say that?" 

The tattooed man leaned a little closer. "I've talked about it with Tuvok, and he agrees with me. Captain, the culture, architecture, everything we've seen here seems to indicate that the Pelltags are a very direct people, but so far, they have refused to let us think about anything but the welcoming party. Mention 'business', and you're fobbed off." 

"Do you think they are trying to distract us?" Janeway asked. "It _is_ a holiday, after all. That could simply be all." 

Chakotay sighed. "I hope that I am wrong," he said, "but based on all our previous experiences in the Delta quadrant, I don't know if we can risk it." 

Janeway frowned. "We can't not risk it, either," she replied after a moment. "We need those supplies, and besides, the Delta quadrant is probably making us paranoid. Just in case, have Tuvok's B-plan stand by. _If_ the Pelltags are up to something, they'll undoubtedly do it tonight." 

***

Quickly taking advantage of Harry's distraction, Tom and B'Elanna took a firm hold of each other and kissed furiously. For a minute or so, Harry was fascinated by the parade marching through the street they were in and the loud music accompanying it, but then he turned back to his friends. The small part of Tom Paris that was still paying attention to his surroundings noticed and he tried to pull back from the embrace. B'Elanna would have none of that. _Whoa!_ Tom thought. _Someone is certainly over her fear of being caught in the middle of a public display of affection!_ When they both finally ran out of breath, Harry was watching them with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked amused, and more than a little exasperated. 

"I really thought I heard you two say you were going to stay decent when you convinced me to come down here," the ensign remonstrated his two best friends. He shook his head softly. "I mean, you had hours to do this before I could join you. Have you no shame?" 

Tom smiled back at the smile forming on Harry's lips despite his words. B'Elanna blushed a little at the words, but did not move away from her boyfriend. 

"Harry," Tom interrupted him calmly, "it's all right, buddy. Follow the orchestra, if you want to. We don't mind." 

Grinning like a child on Christmas Eve, Voyager's chief of Operations hurried off. 

"Clever," B'Elanna said admiringly. "Something in that music _did_ sound a bit like a clarinet." 

The pilot shrugged. "I wouldn't know," he admitted. "Something about Harry's music always seems to put me to sleep fairly quickly." B'Elanna mock-punched him in the side, but, he ignored her and looked around carefully. The official parade had gone past them, but there was still a crowd out on the street following it, including more than a few Voyager crewmembers. 

"Alone at last," Tom declared dramatically. 

B'Elanna sighed. "You wish," she said wistfully. "And so do I, by the way." 

"We will be, once we're in that _dark_ and _empty_ park over there." 

The engineer smiled. "I love it when you're being resourceful." 

***

Harry Kim was fascinated by the similarities between the Pelltag ullisom and his own Earth clarinet. The instruments had developed galaxies apart, but the slight aesthetic differences aside, they were practically the same. So intrigued was the ensign that he never noticed the fioral player discard his instrument behind Harry and replacing it in his hands with repulsor rifle. 

***

During the course of the evening, Lt Cmdr Tuvok had been questioned seven times about whether or not he was enjoying himself. His answer, the same each time, had been simple, yet the Vulcan did not believe he had been understood correctly once. He had been asked if he was having fun. He had replied that his presence at the reception could not evoke any emotional response in him, because he did not experience emotions. He had been told by each of the seven questioners that they were sorry he was not enjoying himself and been encouraged to try out one of the available alcoholic beverages. The Pelltags' apparent inability to grasp Tuvok's very nature was frustrating. Had there been an emotional response connected to what he was experiencing, the chief of Security might have said that he was annoyed. 

Tuvok had, naturally, declined all offers to indulge himself in the alcoholic beverages. 

Instead of muddling his senses, the Vulcan had put them to good use. For four hours after the reception had begun the assembled Pelltags had shown behaviour that fitted almost perfectly with what Tuvok knew of their culture and comparable ceremonies in similar cultures. Tuvok decided the chance of foul play was lower than he had anticipated. 

After that, however, the natives began to behave more suspiciously. There was many a whispered conversation that even a Vulcan's sensitive hearing could not pick up, and many people threw glances at the Starfleet officers which he could only call suspicious. Some of the highest ranking officials left the room in quick succession, and all doors but one were closed. 

Despite the fact that everything was rapidly becoming clear to Tuvok, the Security chief doubted if the captain or the others had noticed. Different from himself, the other officers _were_ enjoying themselves, at the cost of their attentiveness. 

So when the waiters suddenly gathered together around a newly arrived cart of food, one of them kneeled down beside it and started to hand out repulsor rifles to the other waiters, Tuvok was prepared. Immediately, the Vulcan's hand was on his commbadge. 

"Tuvok to Voyager. Initiate 'Plan B'," he ordered in a businesslike manner. 

The voice which replied sounded startled, but spoke as efficiently as her commanding officer had. "Acknowledged, sir." 

***

All over the city night-dark streets and well-lit avenues suddenly became illuminated with a light unfamiliar to the world of Pelltag. In groups of two, Security officers beamed down from the starship Voyager, well-armed with phaser rifles. The Pelltag natives, similarly well-armed and all over the city, had expected the aliens from the Alpha quadrant to be easy pickings, and they were totally unprepared for these well-trained adversaries. The occasional Pelltag fired his rifle before surrendering, but those were the exceptions to the rule. 

***

In the middle of a shadowy copse of trees in the park on the east side of town, Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres were unpleasantly distracted from what they were doing by the commotion nearby. The shouting the couple was hearing was clearly not a planned part of the partying. At least, not as the Voyagers had planned it. 

"Tom?" B'Elanna asked, breaking the pleasant silence, aside from the background noise, that had gone on for several minutes. 

"Mm hmm?" came the reply. 

"We really should go see what's going on." 

"Nah," Tom said, grimacing at the idea. B'Elanna smiled at the look on his face. "I'm sure it's nothing." Just then, they heard the sound of a phaser rifle firing. "Why am I always wrong?" the pilot asked. 

"Not always," the engineer said, getting up and pulling Tom up with her. "Only when you disagree with me." 

The two quickly and silently walked to the edge of the park, but were already too late to witness the end of the firefight. Two of Tuvok's Security officers were in the process of taking three disarmed Pelltags into custody when they walked up. When B'Elanna asked, Hudson and Simms gave a brief report of the situation. Fortunately, the Pelltags weren't giving much trouble- -aside from spoiling shore leave, as Tom observed. 

When the two ensigns took off with their prisoners, the chief helmsman tapped on his commbadge. "Paris to Tuvok." 

"Tuvok here. What is it, lieutenant?" the Vulcan's voice replied immediately. 

"B'Elanna and I just noticed the situation and were wondering if there's anything we can do." 

"I see," said the Security chief. "What is your location?" 

"We're on the east side of town, by the park." 

"There is no more trouble in that neighbourhood. Please patrol the streets to see if anyone was injured in the press of the crowd, and if so, accompany them to a medical facility." 

"We're on it, Tuvok." Tom broke the connection and looked questioningly at the woman standing next to him. "Split up?" he asked. "The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get back to the privacy of the park... or your quarters." He added a lecherous smile, and B'Elanna laughed. 

"All right," she agreed. "Um... Let's check the broad avenue and the intersecting smaller streets. It goes all the way around the park, so we can meet on the other side. I'll go this way, you that way." 

"Deal," Tom said. Then he grinned. "And I'll bet you I can go faster than you can." The half- Klingon just sighed amusedly and walked away. 

The blond pilot looked after her for a few moments, and then began his own patrol. The streets were mostly empty, though some of the Pelltags who apparently hadn't been in on their government's plans were starting to dare venturing outside again. The only person Tom found who was in any trouble was crewman Hiller. His stomach hadn't agreed with the local drinks, and Tayl was puking his guts out in the gutter. Tom sent the ex-Maquis back up to Voyager. The streets were still to dangerous to be walking around in in a state like that. 

Practically from the moment he had left B'Elanna, Tom had had the feeling that someone was following him. It was nothing concrete, just that feeling of eyes directed on his back. Whenever he looked around, however, there was no one there to see. 

Or so the former Maquis thought, until he entered one particularly isolated street. There were few street lights to begin with, and some of those had been broken. If it'd happened just now, in the fighting, or earlier, in a party that had got out of hand, Tom didn't know. "Ooh, scary!" Tom quipped softly. 

"Thomas Paris!" a female voice called to him from somewhere behind him. Tom turned around with his best charming smile on his lips, ready to tell the woman that he preferred 'Tom' over 'Thomas', but when he saw her, the words froze in his mouth. She was very pretty, there was no disputing that, but what grabbed Tom's attention the most was the fact that she clearly was neither a crewmember from Voyager, nor a native of the planet. She looked mostly like a Human, except for some interesting bone growth on her arms. 

"I'm sorry, have we met?" he asked instead of what he had been going to say. 

"We have now," the woman said. As the darkness closed around him, Tom wondered idly how he could have failed to notice the weapon in her hand. 

***

Captain Kathryn Janeway could not help but feel, besides her annoyance at being attacked in such a typical Delta quadrant fashion, a little smug. These people had never stood a chance against her well-trained officers. 

"Now, Prime Minister," she spoke, not bothering to hide the threat in her voice. "Why did you attack us? Unprovoked, I might add." She, Chakotay and Tuvok were questioning the man, while some of her officers were guarding the rest of the Pelltags on the other side of the room. 

"For your technology, captain," the Prime Minister said quickly. His eyes shifted scaredly from Janeway to her two senior officers and back. 

The captain sighed. Of course. Their technology. What else would it be? "We were told that you are foolish and naive!" The Prime Minister winced when he realised what he'd just said, but the Starfleeters weren't interested in that part. 

"Told?" Chakotay asked. "By whom?" 

"The Kazon! They said it, not me!" 

"The Nistrim," Janeway thought out loud. "I wonder if Seska will ever give up her grudge against us." 

"It wasn't the Nistrim," the Prime Minister said, eager to be able to give the Starfleeters something they wanted. "It was the Oglamar." Kathryn frowned. This was something to think about. 

Then, suddenly, her commbadge chirped. "Torres to Janeway." The captain wanted to tell the engineer to wait, that she was busy, but she heard that the woman sounded upset. 

"What is it, B'Elanna?" she asked. 

"It's Tom," was the reply, "he's gone!" 

* * *

**4**   
No matter how often he got knocked unconscious, Tom never seemed to recall how much it hurt when he woke up afterwards until it happened to him again. Phasers and that sort of energy weapons were the worst. He always felt stiff all over after he was shot, and there was this burning sensation at the actual point where he'd been hit. And that was when the weapon was set on stun, like it had been now, fortunately. He groaned. Relatively fortunately. 

Slowly the pilot regained his senses. He remembered being shot on Pelltag, but he could feel the slight vibration of starship engines now. Was he back on Voyager? No, it felt different. 

Taking a deep breath, Tom opened his eyes. Definitively not Voyager. He was in a ship of small size, probably no bigger than a Starfleet runabout-class shuttle. Through the front window, he could see stars streaking by at Warp five or six. The pilot had a good view of the various system controls from where he was sitting, tied to his chair hands and feet. The controls were cluttered in a way they would never be on a Starfleet vessel, but not clumsy way--the ship was clearly designed to be operated by a single person. 

"So, you're awake," the person sitting at the controls said. She had not turned around, and aside from maybe a soft groan or two, Tom didn't think he had made a sound. The woman looked back at him then, and he instantly relived the moment he had first seen that face, and had been shot. 

"Like I said before, have we met?" He tried to smile with his words, but it came out more as a grimace when he noticed how tight his bonds were. 

The woman looked surprised for a moment, but then she grinned broadly. "How about I don't shoot you in response this time?" she said. 

"How about you untie me and let me out go instead?" Tom asked merrily. 

The woman's face darkened as she came to stand over the blond Human, and Tom once again noticed the ridges of bare bone running from her wrists all the way up to the lines of her shirt at the shoulders. He did _not_ fancy being hit with those arms. "Don't go too far, Paris," she warned. "I've been told I have a short temper." 

Tom smiled again. He knew he had to find some way to work this woman, because it didn't seem likely that he would get a chance to physically overwhelm her anytime soon. Even now that he was as harmless as a baby, she was armed and looked over his bonds to see if they were still secure. And the pilot had no intention whatsoever to go where he was being taken. Though he couldn't be certain where that was, he was starting to have a sneaking suspicion, and it involved that baby he mentioned. 

"Sorry," he said, and made it sound like a mixture of sincerity and joking. "Anyway, milady, I appreciate it that you're not going to shoot me." 

This time, the woman laughed out loud. That was good, Tom thought. "You're more than welcome, Paris," she told him. "Disruptor energy cell cost money, and you gotta work efficiently to make a decent living in these parts. And my name is Wystria, by the way." 

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Wystria," Tom said cheerfully. "You know, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Wystria eyed him very sceptically at that, but that didn't matter. The helmsman knew his wit had got her interested -- who could not be fascinated by a man who was being abducted and carried on like nothing was out of the ordinary? As B'Elanna and Harry loved to point out, once Tom started talking, no one knew where or how it was going to end. 

***

"Where is my crewman, admiral?" captain Janeway demanded again. She was staring daggers at the head of Pelltag's military forces, and the man looked as if he was feeling each and every one of them. Chakotay almost pitied him. But not quite. They were sitting in the Conference Room aboard Voyager, with Tuvok and two muscled Security officers standing behind the admiral. Even if the room missed the Cardassian tools of interrogation Chakotay had once seen in a holonovel, it could not have been more intimidating than it was at that moment. 

The captain was understandably upset by Paris's disappearance, and the Indian was forced to agree with the sentiment. Damn the man! There was always some kind trouble going on with him at the center of it. Extensive scans of the planet showed no signs of Human life other than those accounted for, and search parties on the surface had found only Paris's deactivated commbadge out in a street somewhere. It hadn't been long before Kathryn had realised that the Prime minister honestly didn't know where Paris could be, and she hadn't hesitated before questioning the rest of the government. Now they were running out of officials. 

"I don't know," the admiral said with a false calm. "I swear it, I do not know." 

"Captain," Chakotay spoke up, "perhaps we should accept the possibility that the lieutenant was taken by an outside force, a third party." 

She looked up, irritated--not with her first officer or even the Pelltag in front of her, but with the situation and with the galaxy in general. "But what are the chances that someone attacked us while we were already engaged in another fight?" she asked rhetorically. Pretty good, Chakotay thought, with the rate at which Voyager was being attacked. He didn't say it out loud. 

"I must concur with the commander," Tuvok joined in, motioning his guards to take the prisoner away. The admiral would be beamed back to his planet, where he would remain confined to the government district until Voyager left orbit. "We have questioned all suspects," the Security chief continued, "and have determined beyond reasonable doubt that they are unaware of the whereabouts of Lt Paris. When one has eliminated every other option, what remains -- however unlikely -- must be the truth." 

***

Tom shifted his wrist slightly. Wystria had finally agreed to retie his bonds so they wouldn't cut into his flesh so much. Unfortunately she was too good, too professional to give him any chance at escape while doing so. Still, the pilot thought that things were progressing better than he'd hoped for. He had managed to keep his conversation with the bounty hunter going almost constantly since he had woken up, and he got the impression that Wystria really liked blond hair and blue eyes. 

Not enough to set him free, of course, but the more she fell for him, the greater the chance was that he would find an opening to trick her with. 

"So, Wystria," Tom asked, "you never told me who you are working for." 

The woman shook her head chidingly. "And I'm not going to tell you, Paris. I never discuss my clients, not even with my prey. Professional ethics." 

"First," Tom replied, "call me Tom. Second, I know it's Seska anyway, her and her pet Kazon. I was just wondering if we couldn't make a better deal between the two of us." 

Even from the back of Wystria's head the pilot could see that she was smiling as she opened the can of food she had just heated. "I was wondering when you'd get to that," she said. 

Tom shrugged. "Can you blame me? I don't look forward to Seska doing horrible things to me for no good reason." 

"No good reason?" Wystria asked, looking over her shoulder. "Then why is she paying so much for your capture?" 

"Bad reasons," Tom quipped. He still didn't know what motives Seska had given the bounty hunter, and if he should tell her the truth or a fabrication. "Still, there must be something you want which I could get for you." 

Wystria looked annoyed at this line of conversation -- she'd probably talked it over many times before with as many of her victims. Carefully, she untied one of his hands and thrust a bowl of food under his nose. The helmsman sniffed as he took it in his freed hand and grimaced. "Man!" he said. "This stuff would do Neelix proud." 

"The Talaxian?" Wystria asked, her tone suddenly sharp. 

Tom looked up in surprise. "Yeah," he answered. "Do you know him?" 

"And a bit more than that," the bounty hunter said acidly. "If I had never met that rat, I'd have had enough money to buy a moon and retire years ago. He cost me." 

Voyager's chief helmsman smiled as a plan began to take shape in his mind. "Perhaps, then, it is not so much some_thing_ you want that I can get, but some_one_." 

***

The vase crashed against the wall, its hard, ceramic surface shattering, and spraying water halfway across the room. B'Elanna sighed, breathing hard. That felt unbelievably much better. Almost as unbelievable as the fact that there were still breakable object to find around her quarters. 

Calmed down considerably, the half-Klingon looked down at her hand. She was still holding the flowers she had taken from the vase before throwing it, and drops of water were running over her hand and falling to the floor. Tom had given her those flowers, of course. She didn't think of such things herself. 

And now Tom had disappeared. Again. A small part of her was angry with him for it, but she was convinced that he couldn't help it. He'd promised her he would never leave her alone again. 

The worst part was not being able to do anything. The Warp engines were in peak condition. Now they just had to find out where to go. 

***

All three Kazon in the corridor at that moment looked over at Seska wildly, startled by her sudden loud cursing. The Cardassian woman was nearly bent double, and she had to support herself with one hand against the wall. Her other hand was cradling her swollen stomach out of some maternal instinct. 

It couldn't be coming already, could it? It hadn't even been nine months since she had impregnated herself with Tom's semen. Then again, the foetus was half-Human, and Seska was hardly an expert on more of Human physiology than could be explored with her hands, and the butcher the Kazon called a doctor hadn't been able to tell her anything about the baby either. Who knew what was a normal period of pregnancy for Humans? 

The former spy gasped again loudly as another contraction followed the first. It was coming, all right. Her face suddenly moist with sweat, Seska looked up to find the three Kazon still looking at her hesitantly. 

"You!" she roared, glaring at one of them. "Get the doctor! Now!" 

***

"So. Is it a deal?" Tom asked. 

Wystria eyed him suspiciously. Despite her own sarcastic view of the universe, she was sceptical about finding someone who seemed as sarcastic about it and things like friendship and trust as she was. Her prisoner could understand her feelings. After all he _was_ only doing an act. An act, however, which came painfully close to the truth. At one point in his life, he had been worse than the bounty hunter. 

Finally, she nodded. "I'll open the commlink," she said. "You just give me the frequency and say what you've got to say. If I decide you say anything suspicious, the deal's off, and we fly on to the rendezvous point where I'll hand you over to Seska." 

"Sure, sure," Tom said absentmindedly. In his head, he went over the exact words he was going to say in a few moments. It would have to be perfect, or his entire plan could fall apart. At Wystria's sign, he entered the frequency and codes. Then he took a deep breath and activated the speaker. 

"Chakotay, old pal," he began, "I'm in trouble. Yes, I know. _Again_." He shrugged nonchalantly. "All things considered, I've been in worse scrapes, but I'm still gonna need your help to get out of this one, like usual. You know I'll repay you, so no nagging, please. Bring our magnificent cook, Mr Neelix, to these co-ordinates. Just think of some excuse to tell the captain. She'll believe you, no doubt. One more thing, and I'm going to stress this--bring Neelix, but _no one_ else. Cheers!" 

He cut the commlink. 

* * *

**5**   
Seska thought that she might finally know what her interrogation sessions had felt like for the interrogees. Nine hours of labour. She told herself that it all would have been much easier if the child hadn't been half-Human. Then Kullah leaned over her, his face an almost childish expression of excitement. If the child had been half-Kazon, as the maje believed, the birth would probably have been much harder. 

"It is a girl," the doctor told her, handing the Cardassian a bundle of cloth which seemed to swallow the tiny being whole. He sounded somewhat disappointed. Among the Kazon, it was still important for the maje to produce a strong, male heir. It was in situations where that hadn't been the case that the different sects had come into being. 

Seska, however, could have cared less. The baby in her arms displayed the delicate facial pattern that proved its Cardassian heritage, but the lines were softened by its Human half. It was a good thing that the Kazon knew virtually nothing about Cardassians, or crossbreeds. As it was, Kullah would suspect nothing of who the girl's father truly was. 

The former spy thought she would have hated this creature. It was part of Tom--really the only reason she had impregnated herself with his genetic material was to torture the man. Instead, she found herself fascinated with every breath the child took. It was part of Tom, yes, but it was clean, uncorrupted by other people. By _her_. Seska could mould the girl as she saw fit. As her father should have been. 

As Seska looked around the room, her anger rose again. She had wanted that father to be at the birth, to see his face when he realised that this child was his and he would have died a painful death long before it was old enough to remember him. That was why she had sent the bounty hunter after Tom. The woman was supposed to be one of the best, but even she couldn't deliver _this_ fast. The child had been early. Her baby hadn't been able to wait any longer. Suddenly, neither could she. 

Donning a proud smile, she turned to Kullah. "Our child has been born, my maje," she said. "Don't you think we should celebrate?" 

***

Chakotay sighed. "I'm still not sure about this, B'Elanna," he said. 

"Oh, come on!" the half-Klingon engineer exclaimed angrily. "Tom sends you a message, speaking like you've been best buddies all your lives--I know how he thinks--and you know enough of it too for that matter. Of course he meant the opposite of what he was saying!" she calmed herself, reminding herself that she was talking to a superior. It was just that she'd felt so relieved after she'd heard the mysterious message Chakotay had received was from Tom. "The important thing is, is that whoever has taken Tom, he has a plan and needs back-up. So we go." 

Voyager's first officer looked at her with a smile that was somewhere between amused and irritated. "I know all that," he stated calmly. "I was talking about you coming with us"--he looked at the small crew of ex-Maquis and seasoned Security officers that were loading a shuttle and readying it for departure--"or Neelix, for that matter," the Indian added. 

B'Elanna followed Chakotay's look to the wildly bustling Talaxian, and shifted on her feet. She felt a bit embarrassed, as she usually did after one of her outbursts. Still, the Chief engineer was confident that _this_ time, there wasn't a man or woman present to hear her who wouldn't understand. "Neelix knows the risks and is willing to take them for Tom," she said. There had been some argument about whether the cook could come, because it was obvious from Tom's cryptic message that he was central to the pilot's plan as well as in great danger because of it. "It's his choice." 

"I suppose," Chakotay admitted. He didn't want _anyone_ put at risk for Paris, there was no way to tell if the danger was really that great. Paris undoubtedly believed his plan could be pulled off without casualties, but what that man believed and what was reality had often little to do with each other. "There's still you," Chakotay insisted. "You're too involved." 

"Like I said before," B'Elanna replied, her voice suddenly low and dangerous, "you're welcome to try to stop me. Just don't expect to be in any state to come with us afterward." 

Chakotay shook his head in disapproval, but let the matter drop as he noticed Captain Janeway approach them. 

"Commander, lieutenant," Janeway greeted. "How are things going?" 

"We're about ready to leave," Chakotay reported. While he had been talking to B'Elanna, the bustle by the shuttlecraft had rather quickly finished, and the crewmembers who had been loading it were now standing near it in a group, talking quietly. "I was just taking care of some last details." 

The captain smiled wryly. "As in convincing B'Elanna not to go along?" The Indian didn't need to answer. "It's bad enough that you and Tuvok got _me_ to stay behind. It makes me sympathise with B'Elanna, so I insist that she goes. Remember, time's a wasting, so you'd better hop to." 

"Yes, ma'am," came the reply. Did Chakotay even notice, Kathryn wondered, that he sounded almost exactly like his nemesis, the way he said those two words? Once more she wondered what the relationship between the two men had been before they had met again on her ship, and what had made them hate each other so. She vowed that when Tom and Chakotay returned, she'd renew her efforts to find out. 

***

In Sickbay, the EMH programme stood perfectly still. He had connected his optical receivers to Voyager's external sensors to watch the shuttle carrying Chakotay's team leave. The Doctor sighed. It wasn't that he felt worried about Mr Paris--of course not, the man was obnoxious!--it was just that judging by the away missions in the past six months, there was a chance of 93.8 percent that one or more of the shuttle's occupants would end up needing medical care. He would have to call Kes to let her help prepare Sickbay. 

The shuttle was soon gone from sight, but the Doctor kept watching in the direction it had went for minutes afterward, lost in digital thought. Had he been paying more attention to the data he was receiving from the starships sensors, he would not have been surprised when the red alert claxons started blaring. 

"Red alert," Tuvok's voice noted the obvious over the comm system. "All hands to battle stations. We are under attack by Kazon vessels." 

Apparently, the thought crossed the EMH's mind, he would be getting patients even sooner than he had expected. 

***

Captain Janeway scowled as she stepped out of the turbolift and started stalking the corridor towards Main Engineering. This hit-and-run tactic was something new for the Kazon, and it just didn't seem like them. When the first Kazon battleship that had attacked them, just after Chakotay's shuttle had left, fled as soon as Voyager had began returning fire, the captain had been relieved. But two attacks in a span of barely four hours? The Kazon had to be up to something--especially considering the fact that the two battleships had been from different sects. Kathryn sighed, and wished that she could ask her first officer for his opinion. 

She entered Engineering and quickly found the OIC. Since the death of Joe Carey, B'Elanna usually chose Lt Vorik for that position when she was away. For some reason the half-Klingon had taken on a dislike of the young Vulcan recently, but he was still a competent engineer. 

"Vorik!" captain Janeway called, and the lieutenant came down a ladder from Engineering's upper level. "How's the damage from the second attack?" she asked. 

"As it was with the first attack," the Vulcan reported, "the damage Voyager suffered does not appear to affect any essential systems. However, it will take us some time to complete repairs." 

Janeway frowned. She had to assume that the Kazon knew what they were doing. God knew that they had always had an eye for hits that caused a lot of damage. But _what_ were they trying to accomplish? If she had just a little time, the captain knew she could figure it out. But Tuvok's voice once again called for battle stations, she sighed. There was little chance the Kazon would wait for her to catch up. 

***

"So you see," Seska concluded as she looked around the table, "our strategic hits to Voyager have damaged her so, that her primary energy net will overload at the merest touch of a disruptor beam to the shields." Three majes sat around the table. After the last disastrous attempt the Kazon had made at uniting, it had taken Seska considerable effort to convince them to give it another try. Kullah of the Nistrim, of course, was in it for the power. He was certain that it spoke for itself that he alone would command Voyager's power once they'd taken her. Olan of the Oglamar was even more stupid than the stereotypical Kazon, and he was oblivious to the fact that the last Kazon alliance had fallen apart because Kullah had had his counterparts of the Ogla and the Relorah killed. Of course, in actuality Seska had done that, but even the other Nistrim believed Kullah had ordered the assassination. Djirbran of the Relorah was all too aware of he believed Kullah had done. His father and predecessor had been one of the ones killed, after all. There was little Seska could not do with a young mind bent on revenge. 

"My plan," Kullah said, and paused a few seconds to let his supposed superiority sink in, "will hand us Voyager. All we have to do is keep up the strikes until Voyager is weak enough." 

"The ship is weak enough," Djirbran claimed boldly, trying to assert some power for himself. "I say we attack _now_ and take her. With or without you, Kullah." 

Seska glanced at the maje of the Nistrim and gave him a brief shake of her head. Attacking now would be foolish. The Cardassian was certain that Kullah saw her sign, but in his pathetic wisdom he chose not to act on it. 

"And so we shall," he spoke, as if it was his own idea not to wait any longer. 

After the three had left the room, Seska sighed. Voyager would still be able to put up a fight, now. She wished the Ogla, or any of the remaining sects she had been in contact with were near enough to help. Well, ultimately it didn't really matter how many ships the Kazon lost--as long as the vessel she and the baby were on wasn't among them. 

* * *

**6**   
Tom shifted his weight from one foot to another and back. Chakotay should have been there by now. The commander's tardiness, combined with Wystria's excessive--from his point of view, at least--suspicion of him, while so far he had delivered everything that he had promised, was doing a fair job of bleakening the pilot's spirits. Standing on Prairie Planet with his hands tied behind him and a disruptor aimed at his back wasn't helping much, either. The scene reminded him far too much of an execution from a bad holonovel. 

Nervously, Tom glanced around for any sign of Chakotay. Maybe, he pondered, the Indian thought it would be good riddance if he died here, but the former Maquis's rational mind knew that Chakotay's sense of fairness wouldn't let him do such a thing. 

"If he doesn't show," Wystria threatened boredly, "I think I'll just deliver Seska your corpse. The pay'll be less, but, hey, she's paying more than you're worth anyway." The bounty hunter sounded as if she wasn't at all surprised that Chakotay and Neelix weren't there, but Tom knew how badly she wanted to have the Talaxian, and he figured he could convince her to wait for at least a few more hours. 

But perhaps that wouldn't be necessary. Tom saw the sunlight reflect off something on the rise a quarter mile to the left of them, and in that instant, he recognised it as a Starfleet phaser rifle. Unfortunately, it seemed that Wystria had noticed something, too, and she was squinting to try and make out what was on the sandy hill. 

"Look," he said quickly, to distract her, "I told you he'd be here." He nodded his head to where two figures were materialising in a transporter beam. Chakotay was carrying a phaser on his belt, but Neelix was not carrying any weapons. None visible, anyway. "Ah, Chakotay, how good to see you," the pilot started quickly before Chakotay could demand to know what was going on. "And you, Neelix. I have someone here who wants to get reacquainted with you. She really missed you, you know?" 

Neelix's eyes widened when he took a closer look at the stranger, and suddenly, his eyes widened. "Wystria!" he identified her in a whisper. The bounty hunter's disruptor was suddenly aimed at the Talaxian, startling them all. Chakotay tensed, but fortunately he didn't draw his own weapon yet. 

"What is this?" demanded the commander coldly of Tom. 

Tom shrugged. "Well, Ms Wystria here was being paid to deliver me to a certain someone, but she was willing to be satisfied with Mr Neelix in stead. So who am I to argue? And don't give me that look, Chakotay. I know you never liked him either. Do you prefer a terrible cook or your partner?" The blond human was getting a trifle nervous. He could easily read in Neelix's face that the Talaxian trusted that Tom would pull a trick out of his sleeve and they would be going back to Voyager any time now. That was, in fact, the planned result of Tom's plan, but that depended heavily on the fact that Chakotay would recognise what to do and when. 

He turned to Wystria. "Don't you think it's about time you untied me now?" he asked her. "I mean, it's been fun and all, but I have a Helm to get back to." 

"First I want the Talaxian," Wystria demanded. "Then your friend can untie you while I get out of here." 

"And here I was hoping you would stick around to be with me for a while longer," Tom replied playfully." 

"In your dreams, Paris," the bounty hunter said, but she sounded as if she regretted the fact that she didn't trust Tom enough to do so. Tom nodded to Chakotay to send Neelix forward. The Starfleet officer hesitated, obviously wondering if _he_ could trust Tom, to have a plan to get Neelix back. _Come on, Chakotay,_ the pilot pleaded silently, _for once, trust me._ The Talaxian cook, who would be the one at the greatest risk, seemed to have complete faith, as usual. Tom wondered how the little man had ever survived in the universe of trading, trusting as he was. 

Finally, Chakotay gave Neelix a shove forward, and Tom breathed a sigh of relief. He walked forward, to Chakotay, and winked to Neelix when he passed him. The Talaxian didn't exactly look surprised and terrified as he was supposed to, but Wystria seemed to be to excited to finally have him to notice anything. 

***

B'Elanna watched the exchange nervously from a hilltop at such a distance from the scene that she just needed a pair of macrobinoculars to make out the details of what was happening. A weight seemed to be lifted of her shoulders when Tom walked over to Chakotay, but at the same time, she felt worried for Neelix as the bounty hunter woman took him in the direction of her ship. Chakotay, meanwhile, was untying Tom. B'Elanna would have given up her second stomach to find out what the two were saying. 

Next to her, Tayl Hiller followed Neelix and the bounty hunter's progress through the macrobinocular on his rifle. The two would pass relatively close by the hill where Tayl and B'Elanna were sitting between a trio of large rock formations. 

Then B'Elanna saw Tom tap on Chakotay's commbadge, and suddenly Tayl's chirped. "Paris to Hiller." 

"Tom!" B'Elanna exclaimed before Tayl could reply. 

"Hi, B," the pilot returned the greeting. "Would love to chat, but we have to get Neelix back quick." The engineer grunted, disappointed, but agreeing. "Tayl, have you got that old pulse rifle with you?" 

The Kimalean grinned broadly. "Yes, sir!" 

"Good. Great. Wystria has modified a comm-scrambler to scramble our transporter beam. Chakotay tells me it only works for about a dozen feet, but she won't let Neelix stray that far. Shouldn't be a problem, though. Wystria's paranoid as a Ferengi. She checks if her scrambler's still functioning properly every other minute." 

"... And you want me to blast it to the scrambler afterlife," Tayl supplied. 

"Correctemundo. It's small, but I figure you'll be able to hit it. Then we have to have our chef beamed out that same instance, or she'll shoot him. She won't hesitate." 

"I can do it," Tayl assured Tom. "One question, though." 

Tom couldn't resist. "Shoot," he said. 

"Why not just shoot the woman? She makes a bigger target." 

"Because I think her species is pretty tough, and I'm not certain if her clothing doesn't include body armour. She could do any number of nasty things to Neelix before she went down." 

"I got it." he shifted his rifle, squinting to aim. "Target coming into best position," Tayl reported." 

"Count down from three so Bristow can time the transport," Chakotay suddenly joined in. B'Elanna thought the Indian sounded strangely out of place--this manoeuvre had Maquis written all over it. 

"Roger that." B'Elanna watched along with Tayl as he waited until the bounty hunter got out the device. Then he counted down as Chakotay had said and fired. The shot was right on target. The transport was timed perfectly. It might have been a typically Maquis Op, B'Elanna thought, but there was something to be said for Starfleet equipment. It worked right a lot more often than Maquis equipment did. For a moment the half-Klingon wished that she had been at the transporter controls, but it had been at her own insistence that she'd been allowed to come down to the surface. 

The bounty hunter, clutching the injured hand that had held her scrambler, wasted no time and came running back, screaming and firing angrily, but her weapon didn't have nearly the range Tayl's rifle had, so she posed no real threat. After a moment, the half-Klingon and the Kimalean were hailed again. "Great shooting. Stand by for transport." 

Soon the two were beamed up to the shuttle. Tom and Chakotay were already there, and B'Elanna wasted no time flying into the pilot's arms. And Chakotay could grumble about PDAs all he wanted. 

***

Half an hour later, B'Elanna was getting awfully tired of Tom again. He and Chakotay had been arguing ever since they had left the desert planet and the bounty hunter behind. B'Elanna would be glad when they could all get out of the cramped confines of the shuttle. Hiller, Bristow and Neelix all looked as if they agreed with her wholeheartedly, but they were all afraid to interrupt the argument between the two senior officers on board. 

"You had no right to put Neelix's life at such risk!" Chakotay told Tom angrily. 

"Well, excuse me for not lying down and dying," Tom countered. "I didn't have a whole lot of time, and this was the best plan I could come up with! It worked, didn't it?" 

"I swear, Paris, this is the last time I'll let you toy with other people's lives to clean up _your_ messes!" 

B'Elanna sighed. Tom and Chakotay argued on. She _really_ hoped they wouldn't ask her to choose sides. 

"Em... Sirs?" ensign Bristow interjected carefully. 

"What?" Tom and Chakotay demanded at the same time. 

"I'm having trouble reaching Voyager. She's not responding to the regular commfrequencies." 

"It's probably just some stellar interference," Chakotay dismissed it. 

"And _you_ call _me_ negligent," Tom spat at him. "There's more, isn't there, Freddy?" 

"Yes, Sir," the ensign replied. "I _am_ reading Voyager's transponder signal." 

B'Elanna frowned. "I'll make a more detailed scan," she said, already giving the computer the appropriate orders. When the results came in, she got worried. Very. "Take a look at this," she said. Tom and Chakotay immediately leaned over her shoulders and watched. Unfortunately, the two rivals saw the same thing the engineer had. Voyager, scarred with battle damage, was flying away from the Alpha quadrant. Escorted by six Kazon vessels. 

"I suppose, Tom wondered idly, "that it's too much to hope they're just coming over for a cup of coffee?" 

* * *

**7**   
Tiredly, Seska rested her head in her hands. For someone who had had a victory like she had just had, she was feeling strangely lousy, she thought. Then again, for such a victory, it came with an awful lot of problems. For one thing, her Tom was nowhere to be found, and the capture of Voyager, despite all the ship's technology, meant little if she couldn't have him. The Cardassian had to assume that the bounty hunter she had hired had been successful after all, so Tom would be delivered to her eventually. All she had to do was be patient. 

She sighed. 

And then there were the majes. Why she'd ever thought the Kazon's primitive--no, imbecilic--and easily manipulated minds were a _positive_ point, she didn't know. What she wouldn't give for one ally with a complete brain. Or at least one who didn't yell at the other imbeciles so much. It was giving her a headache. 

"I demand Relorah's part of the new technology _now_!" maje Djirbran shouted. "I don't like the amount of Nistrim who are stationed on Voyager." 

"What are you insinuating, boy?" Kullah replied much to loudly to Seska's ears. She groaned. "The Nistrim are predominant on Voyager because we are already familiar with the technology the ship represents," the Nistrim maje reiterated what Seska had told him. Maybe dumping Janeway and her people on that rock of a planet had been a mistake after all, because it had removed the common enemy that had held the Kazon together. 

"But shouldn't that just mean that the Oglamar, and the Relorah, have _more_ need to be on board?" Olan joined in. If even he was able to form a solid argument in what passed for his brain, the situation was looking grim. 

Behind the bulkhead, Seska heard a baby crying, and sure indeed, a moment later a young Kazon warrior appeared in the doorway with a look of utter panic and terror on his face. "Lady Seska!" he called for help. The former Cardassian spy sighed loudly, not caring who heard her, and got to her feet to go hush her child. 

Maybe she should have drowned the creature at birth. 

***

The shuttlecraft Cochrane III followed the starship Voyager at a respectable distance, in what just happened to be the blind spot of the larger vessel's sensors. Tension aboard the little ship had long before risen beyond the point where the shuttle would have exploded had the tension been a kinetic force. 

"There are no human lifesigns aboard," Chakotay said, "but I don't buy that _everyone_ beside us is dead. It just doesn't seem plausible. The Kazon must have dumped the crew somewhere, either on an uninhabited planet or at a prison facility." 

"Ain't that a shame," Tom said sarcastically. "Now you can't blame me for killing them all." 

Voyager's first officer was already opening his mouth for an undoubtebly biting reply, but B'Elanna had had all she could take. "Shut up, the both of you!" she shouted, making the two men jump around to look at her in utter shock. "In case you two hadn't noticed, we're in serious trouble here! If you're going to keep this up, people are going to die. Just get some Holodeck time when this is all over and fight it out, or do whatever's necessary, _but do it later!_" 

Tom and Chakotay had never been more eager to agree with her. 

"Good," the engineer said. "Now make a plan." 

There were a few seconds of silence as the two thought. "We'll have to retake Voyager before getting the rest of the crew back," Chakotay said. "Even if we found them, we'd have no way of transporting them otherwise." 

"The Doctor," Tom said. "He's gained a lot of freedom since Seska left the ship. She can't know that, and she can't take away what she doesn't know of." 

"If we can contact him, he can use my command codes to deactivate Voyager's shields." 

"Still, we can't do to much damage to Voyager either. We can't afford to, and besides, we only have this one shuttle." 

"I may be able to persuade my fellow Talaxians to give us some help," Neelix helped. "The Kazon would become far too dangerous with control of Voyager's technology." 

"That'd be very helpful, Neelix," Chakotay thanked him. "Still, there's those six Kazon vessels to deal with as well. They'd be trouble for Voyager even if we were in top condition." 

Tom guffawed. "Six Kazon ships? It's only a matter of time before they start fighting each other. I'm sure we can help them with that, too." 

B'Elanna smiled as she got up to get something to drink. "I wouldn't dare tell them if my life depended on it," a voice suddenly sounded from behind the half-Klingon as she stood by the replicator, and she turned around quickly. It was Tayl. "But," he continued, "They make a pretty good team, don't they?" 

B'Elanna looked at Tom and Chakotay again and was forced to agree. "Uh-huh. It's almost as if they've done this before. Since before Voyager, I mean." 

***

When the computer beeped to indicate an incoming message, the Doctor had been pacing around Sickbay for what felt like hours. The Kazon had taken over--he was all alone on Voyager, with no allies--and _Seska_, of all people, had come to see him. What was he supposed to do, he'd wondered. He was a doctor, not a commando! 

Quickly, the hologram strode over to the console with his emergency holographic channel and activated it. "Mr Chakotay! Mr Paris! I must say, I have never been so relieved to see the two of you alive. Wait! Don't come back here. Voyager has been--" 

"We know, Doctor," Chakotay interrupted him. "The Kazon." 

"Oh," the doctor replied, almost disappointed that his news didn't have the impact he'd thought it would. "Well, then you know you have to save the captain and the others. I don't know _exactly_ where they are, but--" 

Again he was interrupted, This time by a smirking Tom Paris. "Don't sweat it, Doc," the pilot told the hologram. "We've got everything under control. But we're coming to retake Voyager first." 

The Doctor's eyes widened in a very good imitation--even if he did think so himself--of how an organic person would have reacted to such news. "What! Just you with your away team? There are sixty-one Kazon on board, and more on the Kazon vessels with us." 

"Sixty-one, huh? That's one of the things we wanted to ask. Still, no time for small talk. We can't risk the Kazon detecting our transmission. This is what we want you to do..." 

***

"You _will_ cede us our demands, Kullah!" Djirbran shouted across the Bridge. His anger was reaching the boiling point. Now that arrogant Nistrim was seating himself in Voyager's captain's chair. He was challenging the other majes, it was that simple. And by ignoring Djirbran's threats, Kullah was succeeding in making him look ridiculous. No more. 

Djirbran spoke into his communicator, to the two ships of his sect that were accompanying Voyager. From the corner of his eye, the Kazon saw Olan of the Oglamar follow his lead, as the lad had done for the past hour. 

"Maje Kullah!" the Nistrim manning the Tactical station exclaimed. "The Relorah vessels are charging weapons, and they're aiming them at our ships! The Oglamar, too!" 

Kullah's head swung around to look at Djirbran. The maje of the Relorah noted with glee that Kullah was certainly paying attention to him _now_. "You wouldn't dare," the Nistrim claimed. 

"I'm not taking any chances, Kullah," Djirbran replied. "I'm no fool. I know what you did to Abdar and Terbran, and I'm not going to end up frozen in the vacuum." 

"He did what?" Olan exclaimed, and Djirbran cursed his temper. He shouldn't have said that. "Oglamar!" the younger maje spat into his communicator. "Open fire!" 

***

Voyager shook, and the Doctor started. "Sure, start fighting without me," he muttered. Had something happened with the communications system? Had he missed the signal? Quickly, the hologram told the computer to check if the communications grid was functioning properly, but even before the computer could tell him that the system was in prime condition, the console in the Doctor's office beeped with an incoming message. 

"Yes! This is the Doctor!" 

Tom Paris's face appeared on the screen. "Doc!" the pilot said. Obviously working instruments, he only gave the Emergency Medical Holographic channel only the occasional glance, and a small part of his concentration. "The Kazon are firing on Voyager!" The EMH frowned. That had certainly not been in the plan... but it opened possibilities. 

"That changes everything," the Doctor replied. "If the Kazon alliance is really falling apart --" 

He was interrupted brusquely by the annoying pilot. "Right," Paris said. "We're postponing the entire plan to retake Voyager. Don't do anything until we call you back with a new plan." And the subspace link was abruptly disconnected, leaving the hologram to stare at a Starfleet logo. 

The Doctor harumphed insultedly. They didn't want to have his input? Hmpf. He had a valuable opinion, too. He was a doctor, not a drone! And not any doctor, but an Emergency Medical Holographic one, the finest kind. He'd show them. ('Them' being in particular that _ghastly_ Maquis pilot, naturally.) 

The holographic Doctor had a plan he doubted anyone would top. He accessed the computer and carefully typed in the priority access codes Chakotay had supplied him with. "Computer, access Main Engineering control grid and transfer to Sickbay console delta three." The standard medical settings on the console blinked out and were replaced by graphs showing the status of the Warp core and related machinery. The EMH hummed pleasedly. It seemed everything was as he'd thought. "Computer, shut down Warp core cooling valve one, three, five and six. Increase power on the remaining valves to 130%." There, now let anyone complain about his wish to cross-train with other departments. 

"Warning," the female computer voice complained, "current settings will burn out all activated Warp core cooling valves in 6.3 minutes." 

"Acknowledged, computer. Continue as instructed. Oh, computer? Activate the appropriate alarms." Immediately the lights dimmed and a dreadful noise began blaring out of speakers all over the ship. 

"Alert!" the computer voice said, "Warp core cooling failure! Warp core breach in eighteen minutes!" 

All that was needed now was a Doctor to reactivate the remaining cooling valves, and a good dose of Kazon ignorance. 

***

"Alert!" the computer voice said, "Warp core cooling failure! Warp core breach in eighteen minutes!" 

"What!?" Djirbran exclaimed. The maje was barely holding himself erect with the help of a console as the ship shook under the impact of stray phaser blasts. Still, because members of all three sides were on board Voyager, the ship was left mostly out of the battle. 

"What is happening?" Kullah demanded. He looked around wildly and pointed an accusing finger at a seemingly random member of the crew. "You! Tormah! You're an engineer, tell me what is happening!" 

The young Nistrim froze in fear, and when he replied, his voice quivered with the emotion. "I... I'm in communications, maje. But everybody knows the no one understands this ship's Warp core -- we have to get away! We have to --" The boy was cut off abruptly when Djirbran's disruptor cut him in half. 

"Enough!" cried the Relorah maje. "I've had enough of your lies! Your Nistrim don't know one end of this Voyager from the other! Now the Relorah will take all!" Exploding with rage at the disaster this whole alliance was turning into, and at the Nistrim treachery that he should have seen coming from lightyears away. Quickly, Djirbran brought around his disruptor to put an end to Kullah's mad schemes forever. 

Then a blast shook Voyager. For a mad moment, Djirbran thought that the Warp core had breached, that this was it. But a second later, the Bridge was still there, and Djirbran had not lost his life, only his footing. When he regained his balance, he hurriedly snapped off a shot at Kullah. He saw it strike home on the Nistrim maje, just as he saw -- an instant before he felt it -- the deadly bolt of hellfire leap from Kullah's weapon, coming directly towards his face. 

***

Manouvering delicately through the wreckage of the destroyed Kazon vessel, the Cochrane III weaved its way closer to Voyager, and the remaining Kazon ships still had no idea that the shuttle was there. The Cochrane III was hidden fairly well between the debris, but most of the credit for their unnoticed approach had to go to the blind panic in which the Kazon were turning to get away from Voyager. A couple of the ships were staying around to pick up the escape pods that were being jettisoned from Voyager, but they were in no mood to take in their surroundings either. 

"I sure hope you're right that we can fix whatever's wrong with the Warp core, Chakotay," Tom commented. "The Kazon don't seem to be to optimistic." 

"The Doctor said it was only a trick, Paris. You should try trusting your crewmates sometime." 

"Hey!" Tom objected to the commander. "I trust the Doc with my health more often than anyone here. I'm just saying -- how will the Warp core react to that bedside manner of his? It's not as if the Doc has a whole lot of experience with this sort of thing." 

"It should be all right, Tom," B'Elanna assured him. "The Doctor convinced captain Janeway to let him do some cross-training, so I showed him around engineering." 

"Right," Chakotay said. "Let's get to business. Neelix, did you contact your Talaxian friends?" 

"Yes, sir," the cook responded, "they are on their way to the planets where the Kazon might have dropped of the crew, like you said." 

"Good," Chakotay said. "I'd rather have had them here, but there simply is not enough time. We board Voyager now. We'll go in teams. B'Elanna, ensign Bristow -- you take Engineering. Stabilise the Warp core and keep the area secured. Hiller, Paris -- you're going to Sickbay. Confer with the Doctor and clear out what Kazon are left on the middle decks. Neelix, we're taking the Bridge. Any questions?" There was a chorus of 'no's. "To the transporter." 

***

The child in her arms, Seska stormed onto the Bridge. She was _not_ happy. Things were falling apart, and judging from the panic she'd found everywhere she went, she was the only one to consider that it was all a trick. Tom, of course. He thought he could play her for a _fool_! But no one could out-scheme Seska -- _no one_! Her Tom would pay for everything. 

"Kullah!" the Cardassian bawled. "Where are you?" 

The slaughter she found on the Bridge did nothing to improve her mood. It looked like all of the Relorah had been killed in a firefight, and a fair number of Nistrim with them. 

Kullah was just getting to his feet, nursing a nasty-looking wound on his left shoulder. "Woman!" he whined. "Don't take that tone with me! We have to leave. This precious starship of yours is about to kill us all!" 

Seska cursedunder her breath. Damn Kullah! She had to waste so much time staying on his good side... "My maje, that is why I spoke in so urgent a tone. Voyager is not lost, all this is merely a trick to make us give up our victory. I can still restore this minor bit of damage." 

Kullah frowned, and Seska nearly sighed at his reluctance. "But how can that possible be?" the maje wondered. "We got rid of the Voyagers on that nameless planet." 

"Tom Paris wasn't among them, my maje. He _mustn't_ be underestimated." 

"Paris," Kullah growled, "always this Paris. He will _not_ live to the end of the day. You, you, you!" He indicated some of his soldiers. "With us to Engineering!" 

_No,_ the Cardassian woman thought, _Tom won't live much longer, Kullah, but he won't die by _your_ hand -- and you'd better not get in my way._

***

When B'Elanna and Freddie Bristow materialised in Main Engineering, the place was completely deserted. That wasn't really unexpected, however. The breach that was forming in the antimatter containment unit was clearer here than anywhere else. The Warp core pulsed brightly several times a second. The Kazon stationed in Engineering, without the faintest idea of what was wrong, let alone of how to fix it, had probably run to the nearest shuttle bay as fast as their legs could carry them. 

"Bristow," B'Elanna called, her eyes still checking the upper level for movement, "take the secundary station. Looks like the reaction has gone too far. We'll have to do this manually. You focus on cooling valves five and six, I'll do one and three from the primary station." 

"Yes, sir," Bristow responded the kid was at the work station already. B'Elanna gave her surroundings one more check, and then even her Maquis-honed paranoia had to admit that everyrhing was safe. _Nice going, Doctor,_ the half-Klingon complimented mentally. _Who eould ever have thought taking over a starship could be so easy?_

***

A disruptor blast flew by Chakotay's head practically before he had finished materialising on Voyager's Bridge. The commander snapped off a trio of shots at the Kazon firing on him while diving for cover, and he saw the last one hit. The Kazon went down. 

Meanwhile, Neelix was spraying phaser fire all over the group of Kazon standing at the back of the Bridge. He wasn't hitting any of them, but they were forced to take cover, where they couldn't take a good aim at the two attackers. 

Aside from those three, there was only one other Kazon left on the Bridge. He wasn't armed, but he managed to jump on top of Chakotay before the Indian could bring his phaser rifle around. The momentum and weight of the Kazon threw Chakotay down onto the deck, but the commander rolled further, flipping the Kazon soldier off of him. Then he bashed the other's face in with the butt of his rifle. The Kazon went limp. 

Now it was only a matter of picking off the remaining Kazon one at a time. 

***

The starship shuddered. Maje Kullah cursed. 

"This is madness, Seska!" 

He was really grating on her nerves by now. The baby was crying, the ship was exploding, and _Kullah_ was _complaining_. Taking care of the child, running the entire divided Kazon empire from the shadows, dealing with Tom... It was too much for one person. Seska couldn't think. 

When Kullah began to whine about the dangers 'his' child was in, something snapped. She had to lighten her load. 

"Fine!" Seska yelled, pushing the bawling bundle of cloth and child into the maje's arms. "Fine! If you can't take a little pressure, take your precious daughter and go to your shuttle. Just send me someone with a little backbone to help me!" Seska ran on in the direction of Engineering without looking back, leaving behind her a bewildered Kazon with a retort only half-formed on his lips. 

She would have to fix this later, Seska knew. Thanks to the Kazon's foolish patriarchal power structure, she still needed Kullah. But she could deal with that when the time came. For now, she could focus on the important things -- her Tom, and everything he loved and stood for, was going down. 

***

"Hey, Doc! Got any sedatives left?" Tom called out to the hologram. The Maquis prodded his two Kazon captives forward into Sickbay with the business end of his phaser rifle. Tayl Hiller and his trusty pulse rifle followed him in, guarding their backs. 

The EMH harumphed unhappily, but he _did_ put a hypo to each Kazon's neck and put them out cold. Since the Brig was in the part of the ship that the small strike team hadn't been able to secure yet, Tom had decided to put the half-dozen or so Kazon they had taken alive so far in a very deep sleep in Sickbay. As was in his nature -- or perhaps his programming -- the Doctor wasn't particularly pleased with that decision, but he followed orders. 

With a grunt, Tom hoisted the limp body of one of the Kazon onto one of the biobeds. "Any news from the others?" 

"Cmdr Chakotay reported in a few minutes ago," the hologram replied, lifting up the Kazon's feet. "He says that he and Mr Neelix are restoring command functions right now. In ten minutes or less, they will be able to flood any part of the ship that is still in Kazon hands with gas." 

"Doc, you know that when I say 'the others' I mean B'Elanna." 

"Yes, I do, Mr Paris. I spoke with Lt Torres too, right before you got here. She says that she and Mr Bristow are still working on the Warp core." He looked abashed for a moment. "It seems that my tampering caused more damage than anticipated -- but we're out of danger now. They are only working to get the Warp drive functional and keeping the alarms running to keep the Kazon on their toes." 

Tom sighed. "Then I guess we just sit back and wait this one out." 

"Almost done, chief," Freddie reported. B'Elanna wiped some sweat from her forehead before she replied. Working with antimatter was always tricky enough, but now she kept looking over her shoulder for Kazon as well. The half-Klingon herself was as good as done too, thank Kahless. Voyager still had only very limited Warp capabilities, but with a two-man Engineering crew, this was the best she could do. 

Suddenly, Freddie screamed. 

B'Elanna spun around, but it was already too late. The young engineer's body sank to the floor like a bag of self-sealing stembolts, revealing the figure that had sneaked up behind him. Seska. 

"Well, well, well," the Cardassian said with a sly smile, "what have we here?" 

"Seska..." B'Elanna's voice was a low growl, and instinctively, she had adapted a combat stance. 

"And to think I came all this way to Engineering to try and keep my hands on Voyager," the former spy gloated. "And Voyager would be _ever_ so useful -- but having you in my hands? That's even better. That's just plain _fun_." With a triumphant smile on her face, Seska pointed her disruptor at the half-Klingon engineer. "It's been nice, B'Elanna," she said. "Really." 

B'Elanna never knew she was so fast. Before either she or Seska knew what was going on, she was on top of the Cardassian. The disruptor clattered to the deck halfway across Engineering. B'Elanna saw red. Seska was black and blue, blows and kicks raining down all over her body. The Cardassian spy wasn't exactly defenceless either, though. Bucking at just the right moment, Seska managed to flip over until _she_ was sitting on top of _B'Elanna_. With a sadistic smile, her hands closed around Tom's lover's neck. She squeezed. 

Then B'Elanna's fist landed hard in her stomach. "Ugh!" said Seska, and then fell over. 

B'Elanna rolled away, and a second later she was back on her feet. It took Seska a moment longer to get up, and she stood a little more unsteadily. But nevertheless, the two rivals stood face to face again. 

"I'm going to --" Seska began to threaten. 

B'Elanna had really had it with all Seska's bull, _especially_ with her empty threats. She split open her knuckles then, but the Cardassian lost at least one of her teeth. Standing over the bruised form of Seska, bleeding on the floor, B'Elanna didn't think she had ever felt so good, so triumphant. That, of course, was a mistake. 

At first, when Seska looked up and her eyes lit up at the sight of something behind B'Elanna's back, the engineer thought that she wasn't going to fall for a lame trick like that. When Seska shouted, "Well, shout her, for Cardassia's sake! We're taking her!" however, B'Elanna tried to spin around and duck aside to safety at the same time. 

It turned out that the disruptor blast from the Kazon who had just walked into Main Engineering knocked her out before she managed to do either. 

* * *

**8**   
Voyager shot through the emptiness of space like an arrow shot from a bow. Fast -- faster than the naked eye could follow, certainly. And yet so agonisingly slow. The ugly hump of the Kazon battleship that was fleeing before the Federation starship was gaining distance ever so slowly, and with the damage to the Warp core, Voyager had no chance of catching up. As for repairs -- well, Voyager didn't even have a single qualified engineer left alive on board. 

The pilot cursed. "Damnit! We can't let them get away!" 

"Stay calm, Paris, for god's sake," Chakotay urged. 

"_You_ stay calm, if you like it so much," Tom retorted. "_I_'ll actually worry about B'Elanna, if you don't mind _too_ much." 

"Shut your face, Paris. Shouting isn't going to save B'Elanna." 

"Um, sirs?" crewman Hiller interjected. Both officers turned to glare in his direction, so he quickly continued. "The Kazon vessel will be out of range in half a minute..." that, fortunately, was enough to turn the Humans' focus back to solving their mission. Tayl breathed a sigh of relief. The air between those two was a bit too heavy with tension for his taste. Nothing good could come of that. 

"Paris," Chakotay ordered, "keep the ship steady, dead ahead." 

Tom clicked his tongue irritatedly. "What do you think I have been doing for the past three hours? What are you up to, Chakotay?" The pilot turned in his chair to look at where Chakotay was standing at the Tactical station. The first officer ignored him. 

The pilot was about to repeat his question when a pair of photon torpedoes suddenly tore their way through space ahead of Voyager. 

"What the... !" Tom exclaimed, astonished. "Chakotay, you idiot! B'Elanna's on that ship!" 

"And if we don't stop the Kazon now, we probably won't ever see her again!" Chakotay retorted. "Besides, I doubt they are keeping B'Elanna in the drive section." 

But Tom was too busy to listen to Chakotay's explanations. "Direct hit on the Kazon vessel," the Maquis pilot reported, more, to himself than to anyone else. "First torpedo penetrated the shields. Second torpedo..." The light from a bright explosion lit up the viewscreen. "... direct hit," Tom finished needlessly. "They've lost Warp drive! Spinning out of control. I'm compensating to follow." Voyager's inertial compensators strained as Tom swung the starship into a hard turn, following the Kazon. 

"The Kazon have regained control on impulse," Tayl Hiller took over reporting. "They're heading towards the nearest planetary system. Four planets, one M-Class." 

"A Kazon outpost?" Chakotay asked. 

Tom turned Voyager on a straight line to the planet. They wouldn't beat the Kazon ship there, but now that the Kazon had lost speed, they would be close behind. _Hold on B'Elanna,_ he thought, _I'm coming._

"I'm not reading any life signs," Tayl said, "but from this distance, we can't be certain of anything." 

Minutes passed tensely, as Voyager gained the distance she had lost on her prey ever so slowly. 

Then, suddenly, "What the!?" Tom exclaimed. "They're going down!" The Kazon ship had reached orbit around the M-Class planet, but she wasn't stopping. The ship's hull turned an angry red as friction with the planet's atmosphere heated it up. 

"Tell me," Tom said, watching wide-eyed, "did I miss something somewhere, or are Kazon ships not designed for planetary re-entry?" 

***

Carefully, Seska got back to her feet. She was half-surprised to find herself curled protectively around the baby. Well, she supposed she really didn't want to see it get hurt when there was no reason it should. 

The Cardassian looked about her. The Kariph II's Bridge was a mess, but it being a Kazon ship, it did not actually look much worse than it had before the forced landing. Sparks flew from the consoles, though, as the crew tried to work them. Systems were out. 

"Communications?" Seska asked urgently. 

"They are out," one of the Kazon told her, "but rescue ships are already underway. They should be here in a few hours." 

"Intra-ship communications!" Seska snapped. 

The Kazon looked surprised. "Also out," he said, "but I'm working on them." 

"Forget it," the former spy told him. "Take some men and go secure the prisoner. The containment systems may be out as well. And bring her to the port hatch!" Thankfully, the man obeyed. Seska turned to Kullah, and she saw dark blood running in a steady stream from under the man's scalp -- his hair, or whatever in the galaxy the Kazon had on their heads instead. The look in his eyes was confused, unfocused. Seska had never understood why starship chairs -- especially captain's chairs, which didn't have consoles in front of them -- never came with seatbelts. Kullah stumbled, almost fell. A concussion, probably. 

So much the better. Now Seska could take command without argument. 

"Everyone!" she called. "Evacuate the ship. Take every weapon you can find and rendezvous outside. We're going into the mines." The planet where, on Seska's insistence, the ship had made its attempt at a landing, was in fact an old Kazon mining colony. The place had long been deserted, so there weren't any defence mechanisms that they could use against Voyager, but the mines were nothing less than perfect. Dilithium mines meant that her Tom and the others wouldn't be able to beam in -- not very far into the mines, anyway. When Tom's people abandoned the safety of Voyager, and they would, to save B'Elanna, Seska and her Kazon would have by far the advantage of numbers. 

***

Chakotay tapped his commbadge. "Chakotay to Bridge," he opened the channel. "Any improvement?" 

"No, sir," crewman Hiller said back over the commlink. "The sensors are still only getting blurred lifesigns. There's no way to tell what species they are, let alone beam them out. The transporters could pick up those lifeforms, but they wouldn't know how to begin putting them back together on Voyager." 

Stepping onto the transporter padd, Tom replied irritably, "We knew that when we left the Bridge, Starfleet. Let's get going." 

The Indian glared at Tom's back. "It's called 'making sure,' Paris. You should try it sometime. Might keep you out of trouble." He tried to shake it off -- this was no situation to go into angry. It didn't work. Chakotay simply finished programming the transporter and joined the others on the padd. 

"Are you certain we really should do this? Neelix wondered aloud. "The three of us against a ship's worth of Kazon? Those aren't attractive odds." 

"What are you suggesting," Tom countered, "that we let _her_ keep B'Elanna?" Chakotay didn't overlook the fact that to Tom the real threat weren't the Kazon, but only Seska. He had to admit that the Maquis could very well be correct. 

Chakotay sighed. They might as well get this suicide mission underway. All the arguing in the world wasn't getting them anywhere. He removed the safety from his rifle. "Lock and load, people." A fraction of a second before Paris could fire off his scathing reply, the transporters activated, and the three men dematerialised. 

***

Seska paused to see if the rear guard of the large column of Kazon that was now under her command was keeping up, but she didn't dare wait long enough to actually see if they were. Though there had been some casualties when the aft section of the Kariph II had collapsed under the strain of its damaged engines, but well over a hundred Kazon still followed Seska. Over one hundred soldiers -- that should suffice to hold off a mere handful of Voyagers. She would believe it when it was over and done with. 

The Cardassian woman ran forward at a trot until she was back at the head of the column, where two Kazon Seska had deemed to have some degree of intelligence were dragging along the Torres woman. Thank the three moons of Cardassia Secundus that the crash had left the engineer too groggy too keep up her endless nagging, or to put up a fight. Another Kazon was carrying the child, and from the look on his face, the man still hadn't decided whether that was an honour or a punishment. Seska was determined to stick as closely as possible to the two hybrids. She didn't particularly care about either of their health, but if Tom had another card up his sleeve, this was where he'd play it. 

Scenarios were playing out in Seska's head, and one by one she found ways to turn each of them to her advantage. Much depended on her keeping direct command over the cannon fodder. 

Almost as if in response to that last thought, Kullah twitched on the litter he was being carried on and then groaned, starting to come awake. "What..." he began weakly. 

Seska cursed under her breath. She had given the maje enough sedatives for his 'concussion' that he should have been out of it for hours more. "Hush, my maje. All is well. I am executing your orders as you commanded me." 

"Huh? Orders?" the Kazon drawled, half-conscious. "What ohhh..." He trailed off as the hypospray Seska held unobtrusively to his neck knocked him out once more. 

"Tarjin!" Seska bellowed. "You heard your maje! Go check to see how the rear of the column is holding up!" Tarjin, who was as close to an elder as Kazon got and was nearly deaf, wasn't about to admit that he hadn't heard an order his maje had given, so he rushed off to do as Seska said. 

Seska paused for a minute, letting the head of the Kazon column move ahead of her once more. She was overextended and exhausted. Every separate Kazon demanded his own decision on how far he could be trusted to follow a female's orders, even if he believed they came from Kullah indirectly. And the Kazon were the least of the Cardassian's worries. She stepped into a side-tunnel and leaned against the walls to get a moment's peace and quiet to think. Seska was sure she was missing some scheme Tom was concocting right now to retrieve the Torres-woman. She closed her eyes, going over the possibilities. Tom would never attack on their rear -- he only had a few men, and there was an army of Kazon to take on. The Human would need to ambush them, and, for that, the Voyagers needed to get ahead of her. 

Then Seska froze. She was in a side-tunnel. According to the Kazon records, the mine consisted of just one, miles-long tunnel. If those records were wrong, Voyager's sensor could have picked up on it. 

Suddenly desperate, the Cardassian started to run, pushing aside the surprised Kazon in her way. Too late. Weaponsfire and the of sound crumbling rock sounded from up ahead. Seska increased her pace. 

She could see the light of phasers and disruptors up ahead, she was almost there and--BAM! A phaser-blast slammed into Seska's shoulder like a sledgehammer, sending the woman spinning backwards, right into the wall. Groaning, Seska managed to get back to her feet, but her left arm was completely numb. 

The Cardassian looked up to see her worst fears come through. A triumphant smile on her Tom's face grinned down at her as the man held the dazed half-Klingon to him. 

The fact that the pilot had to dive for cover a nanosecond later, as return fire from the Kazon tried to vaporise him on the spot, did nothing to dam in Seska's sudden despair. 

Quickly, the Cardassian assessed the situation. The Kazon were all ducked down behind hasty cover--at least, those who hadn't been shot in the surprise attack. Gartin and Kerrih had simply dropped Kullah where they'd stood. Neelix and Chakotay were firing their phasers from ambush positions directly ahead of the Kazon. Typical Maquis positions--Seska recognised Tom's hand. Tom himself was crawling from rock to rock back into cover with the Torres-woman, half dragging her along. Seska's eyes flashed past her Kazon. The child! She still had the child. All was not lost yet! 

Then Kullah got up. The maje wobbled to his feet, all of the disruptor and phaser fire miraculously going right by him. He looked around him, taking in the situation as his head seemed to be clearing. Then, "Hold your fire!" he roared. Kullah had never been troubled with too much grey matter, Seska knew, but his presence was still impressive as ever. The cave fell silent. 

Kullah glared at where the Voyagers were hiding. Seska knew that the maje couldn't possibly have any idea what was going on, as long as she'd kept him unconscious. And to her horror, the Cardassian didn't have a clue as to how he would respond. "This has gone far enough," Kullah commanded. "You have nothing to gain from following us, Humans. You are few, and we are many. You could never kill us all before we kill you all." 

At that point, her Tom half stepped out from his cover. Seska heard Chakotay's sharp intake of breath, but the tattooed man stayed silent. 

"I have no beef with you, Kazon," Tom spoke. "All I want I now is my child, and we'll be out of your hair... or your... whatever." 

There was a moment of confused silence. 

"_Your_ child?" Kullah roared then. 

There was another moment of confused silence. 

"Um, yeah," the pilot said, nodding. "Seska impregnated herself with my genetic material... You, um, didn't know that?" 

Kullah turned to Seska, and she was so shocked at this disastrous turn of events that she completely forgot to hide the truth from her face. The Kazon maje looked outraged enough to explode. 

"Take the child!" Kullah spat. "And take the wench, too, if you want her! Then we both leave here, and if I ever find your ship in my space again, I will see you all dead." 

"Agreed," Chakotay spoke quickly, cutting Tom off before he could speak. Kullah gestured for the warrior holding her baby to step forward, to give the child up. 

"_NOOO!!!_" Everyone, including Seska herself, was stunned to hear the cry emerge from her throat. The Cardassian wasn't thinking anymore. All was lost. But somehow, she couldn't stand there and let them take her baby. She lurched forward at the Kazon, and tore her child from his arms. The infant instantly began to wail loudly, but Seska didn't waste a second. She kept on running, past the Voyagers, into the depths of the mine. 

***

For a moment after Seska had vanished, everyone stood frozen. Then Paris turned on his heels and took off after her. Chakotay was only just in time to grab him and pull him to a stop. 

The lieutenant glared at him. "I'm going after her," he stated. It was not a request for permission. 

"We are," Chakotay acknowledged. "In a second. She can only go so deep into the mine before it ends, Paris." Then he turned to the others. "Maje Kullah, our deal still stands. Your rescue ships should be arriving any minute now. If they won't fire on Voyager, Voyager won't fire on them. Neelix, you take B'Elanna up to Voyager and pass along my orders. Then you go and get the crew, if Kullah will tell you where he put them." As he was speaking, Chakotay had turned to the Kazon. The maje nodded grudgingly. "After that, you come back to pick us up and we leave Kazon territory together." Which was on the same course as Voyager had been heading for the past two years, but Kullah was still too upset to realise that. "And the two of us," the commander continued, to Paris, "We are going to retrieve your child." 

"And capture a traitor," the Maquis finished. 

* * *

**9**   
It took some time for Tom to realise that he shouldn't be able to see anything. Fair's fair, the Maquis had a lot on his mind. His child, which he had never caught more than a flash off--heck, he hadn't even been present at the conception!--and of which he didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl, had been kidnapped by its mother, a woman whom Tom currently hated most of anyone in the galaxy, but with whom he'd had a relationship prior to the conception of their child, while she was still a different species. To top it all of, the guy who was jogging along beside Tom, helping him get his child back (well, not _back_ exactly, since he'd never had the baby before) was one of Tom's other nominees for 'most hated person in the galaxy'. 

Still, it _was_ rather remarkable that the pilot could see in an underground mine, and he should have noticed it sooner. The tunnel wasn't brightly lit, but enough that Tom didn't have to strain his eyes to see where to put his feet down. Looking around, Tom noticed that this deep down, there was still some phosphorescent dilithium ore embedded in the walls. 

Tom glanced at the commander. "C'mon, Chakotay. Keep moving," he complained. It wasn't the first time he'd said those words in the past half hour. Nor the second. 

The Indian made an annoyed sound and glared at Tom. "You know, Paris," he said impatiently, "this is exactly why I can stand you. You never stop to think. Everything you do, you do on impulse, and you don't care _what_ you screw up in the process." 

Tom almost stopped walking, but despite Chakotay, his mind was still on Seska and the baby. "Oh, yeah," he replied almost absentmindedly, "and you're all 'Mr Face-The-Consequences', aren't you, Chakotay. Because I remember this once--" 

Chakotay's face was red as if it was going to explode. "Keep that out of it, Paris!" the commander barked. "You know as well as I do--" 

"Do you know what your problem is?" Tom continued as if Chakotay hadn't spoken, finally stopping. "Oh, we have plenty of old reasons to hate each other, but that's not even it--this is newer. You're jealous." 

"What!?" Chakotay exclaimed incredulously. 

"Jealous that I had the guts to join the Maquis, while you were too indoctrinated with Starfleet rules to move a muscle even though the Cardassians were bulldozing your home." 

"That's a load of crap, Paris! Don't pretend that you even had a clue of what morals _are_ when you joined the Maquis!" 

"Hey, I didn't say anything like that, Chakotay. This is your twisted ego we're talking about." He shook his head, and muttered, "I don't have _time_ for this!" And he trotted away further into the tunnel. 

It was only a few seconds before Chakotay cursed, and ran after the other Human. 

Paris must have sped up once he'd got out of sight, because it took the commander at least another ten full minutes to catch up with the man. By then, the mine had started looking more and more like a natural cavern, and Paris was climbing over a mount of rubble that blocked most of the narrow tunnel. 

"Took you so long?" Paris grumbled, shooting a nasty glare at the commander as he saw him approach. Then he ducked his head down and vanished through the hole. 

Chakotay cursed under his breath before crawling after Paris. "Shut your mouth, Paris," he ordered. "I'm still your superior officer--and I'd like to remind you that we're only here as a favour to you. It's not Starfleet policy to take away babies from their mothers, no matter who those mothers might be." 

Tom didn't respond, and Chakotay looked up to see why. He didn't get to see much, though, because the lieutenant was standing right in front of the exit of the narrow passage, his back completely blocking Chakotay's view. Irritatedly, the commander gave the man a push, and Tom moved aside woodenly. 

The next moment, Chakotay saw why. Beyond the narrow passageway, the tunnel opened up into an enormous underground chamber, split in two in the middle by an abyss. The commander didn't see anything indicating a bottom. Enough dilithium ore lit up the chamber from the walls that Chakotay doubted the miners had ever gone this far down. 

Seska was standing at the edge of the chasm. The baby was in her arms. 

For a moment, Chakotay felt an uncomfortable sympathy for Paris. Surely, if it had been his baby, _he_ would have done anything, disobeyed orders from the captain if necessary, to get her back. Pretty soon, the bitterness won, though. Baby or not, consequences or not, the Maquis would do whatever he pleased. 

The commander was still crawling out of the hole in the wall when Paris suddenly stormed forward. Seska, not all that far away, looked around desperately, but there was no easy escape this time. Playing for time, the Cardassian held out the child towards Tom as if it were a weapon. Confused, the man skidded to a halt, a mere few feet out of reach. 

For a few seconds, the two just stood there, neither of them even blinking. Both of them jumped when the child gurgled, almost its first sign of life since Seska had snagged it away from the Kazon. 

Seska almost took a step backward, but realised just in time that she was already standing at the edge of the abyss. Unusual for her, it was clear from the Cardassian's face that she was at the end of her rope. It was quite a jump, and she could not get far enough back from the edge to take a run-up without closing on Tom. All seemed lost. 

But, abruptly, Seska looked Tom straight in the eye again, and what was in Seska's eyes made a shiver run down Tom's back. "Stop right there," she said. "Or I'm sending this girl all the way to the bottom." 

The pilot almost laughed. This couldn't be true. (_A girl!_ the thought ran inappropriately across his mind. _My child is a daughter!_) 

"You can't throw her down," Tom spoke in a daze. He sounded almost as if he were stating a fact. "She's your daughter." 

"Just don't get any closer." Seska sounded more certain than she looked, though. 

The two stood facing each other, their eyes locked. 

Neither of them was willing to make the first move. 

Neither of them knew what the other's move would entail, exactly, if they were to make one. 

Tom didn't step forward. But he twitched. 

It was enough. With a jerk, the Cardassian swung the babe out over the abyss and let go. For an instant, she stood there looking after it in surprise, but then Seska's natural persona reasserted itself, and she relaxed. Once done, the act seemed logical, a necessary measure. 

Everything around the pilot fell away as his eyes focused on the baby and the baby alone. She'd done it. Seska'd actually done it. Tom's eyes seemed to zoom in on the little girl's soft face. The baby was so beautiful! 

It was only when he felt the cold winds from deep in the abyss batter his skin that the pilot realised that he had raced after the baby and was now hurtling across the void in an attempt to catch the little one. Through luck as much as through skill, Tom's arms closed around the baby. Of course, the Human had realised by now that he was going to fall just as dead as the child, so he didn't feel too relieved. 

Hitting the far wall of the abyss, Tom cushioned the baby from the impact as much as possible, and at the same time, he swung out his right arm in a desperate attempt to find a handhold. Stretching his arm as far as it would go, Tom found that he could just curl his fingers over the top of the cliff wall. He rebounded off the wall, and then fell back, all the while only barely holding on. Then, for a moment, he simply hung there, catching his breath, the edge biting painfully into his hand. 

As Tom hung from the edge of the abyss, bloodying his fingers on the sharp rock, Seska sneered at him from the other side. "You have to be willing to do whatever's necessary, Tom. That's something you were never able to see." The Cardassian paused for half a second, and then added, almost grudgingly, "It's not that I don't care for the child, you know. I just like myself better." 

Then Seska took a two-step run-up and leapt across the abyss--or so she thought. 

When the Cardassian woman's foot touched down on the far side of the abyss only a foot away from Tom, the rock crumbled under her. With a shriek, Seska fell down. One flailing arm hit Tom's side, and he had to try frantically to brace himself further with his one free arm, so that he wouldn't fall. 

When he looked down a moment later, his heart in his throat, the pilot saw that his old lover hung from bloodied hands at the height of his knees. 

"Tom!" She shouted desperately. "Save me!" 

"I can't," Tom replied, surprised to find himself saddened at the words. "I would if I could, but I've got the baby..." 

"Tom, save me," Seska repeated. 

But Tom shook his head. "I told you, I--" 

"We can make new babies, you and I. I promise! As many as you want! It doesn't matter!" 

The Cardassian looked up hopefully at her former lover, and saw something in his face change. 

"I said I'd save you if I could, right?" he said, his voice calm and cold. Seska smiled suddenly, about to agree that yes, yes he had said that, but Tom continued. "I take it back." And all of a sudden, a foot slammed into the side of Seska's head. She had been so focused on convincing Tom to save her that she hadn't even seen it coming, and now she was scrambling to keep at least one hand on the tiny ledge that was all that was between her and the abyss. 

After a second, Seska managed to stabilise herself. She turned her head to watch Tom--right on time to get a sturdy Starfleet boot right in the middle of her forehead. A sickening crack sounded from somewhere inside her head, but a moment later, it didn't matter, because she was falling... falling... And just like that, Seska knew with certainty that finally, ultimately, all was lost. 

***

Despite everything Tom screwed his eyes shut at Seska's last, terrified shriek, wishing he could shut his ears as well. 

Time seemed to stand still for a while, there, but ultimately, it resumed. Tom hung his head, confused by the regret he felt. He loved B'Elanna. Seska was the impersonation of everything that was wrong with the universe. But half of the genes that had made the life of the tiny bundle he held in one arm were still hers. 

The Maquis did not get much time for his reflections, though, because that was when the rock under his hand decided to give. He swung wide, now only holding on by a few fingers. Tom screamed in frustration--there no way he could escape death, certainly not with just one arm to climb. 

It wasn't until yet another body hit the far side of the abyss that Tom even remembered that Chakotay was in the cavern as well. "Gap's a lot wider than it looks," Chakotay breathed as he crawled the rest of the way onto the edge. The Starfleet commander had landed with up to his stomach on the ground, and his legs dangling in the abyss. Tom had to blink to keep the gravel that came loose as Chakotay kicked his way up out of his eyes. 

Chakotay vanished out of sight, and for a moment the cavern was very still. "Starfleet?" 

Tom craned his neck to look up, only to start at seeing the cracks in the rock beneath his hand. Those hadn't been there before. Insanely, the Maquis tried to move his grip on the cold stone, and that was exactly the wrong thing to do. 

The rock crumbled. 

Tom voiced his despair in an undignified wail as he began to fall--but as abruptly as the fall began, Tom jerked to a stop again, two strong hands clasped around his wrist. 

When he managed to breath again, Tom looked up a second time, and this time he saw that Chakotay was now sprawled on the ground on his stomach. The commander was hanging over the edge up to his shoulders, his arms reaching out to grab Tom. 

The Starfleet officer was clenching his teeth, and it was obvious to Tom that the man would never be able to drag him back up. That was OK, though. Carefully, the pilot brought his other arm up, carefully lifting the baby. "Chakotay, take her. Please. Let me fall and save her." 

Chakotay's only response was a strained grunt. With a shock, Tom felt himself jerk a few inches higher. 

"Chakotay?" Tom didn't dare look up again, and only covered the baby as well as he could as he scraped past the rock on his way up. An awful lot of rock was coming loose, from the commander's weight as well as the lieutenant's movement. 

All of a sudden, an avalanche of stone crashed down. The edge of the abyss hadn't been able to hold the weight of three persons, no matter if one of them was tiny, and Tom fell right back down the way he had come. But, surprisingly, no further. One of Chakotay's hands was still holding on to Tom's. The other, the pilot could see, was fiercely clutching a small stalagmite and was the only thing that was keeping Chakotay himself from an endless fall as he lay at an angle, his feet above his head.. 

"Chakotay!" Tom called once more. 

Impossibly, the Maquis started to rise in small jerks as the Indian replied. "Paris... for once..." Tom was rising, he was almost at the edge! "... in your life... shut... your face!" And with that, the pilot suddenly found himself on firm ground once more. Well, firm ground... Though the fragile part of the rock all seemed to have broken off by now, the two men exhaustedly dragged themselves to their feet and stumbled to a part of the rocky floor that appeared to be somewhat sturdier. 

Mentally and physically drained, Tom sat down on the edge of the abyss that had claimed Seska's life, letting his legs dangle over the edge. He looked lovingly at the little child he was still holding carefully in his arms. In one of the most extraordinary twists of a weird day, Tom's daughter was on the verge of sleep. When she yawned, her father almost followed her example. 

Tom heard rather than saw Chakotay plop down beside him. "We'd better wait for the rest of the crew before trying to go back up the cave," the commander spoke after a moment. Tom grunted, agreeing. 

"I don't really fancy jumping back across without help either." 

For a while after that, they sat in silence, resting. Tom was absorbed by the study of his daughter's sweet face. Still, it was the Maquis who finally broke the silence. "You could have let me fall," he said evenly. 

"I could have," Chakotay agreed, just as calmly. "But I guess I felt that I still owed you an underground rescue." He smiled despite himself. 

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you did... You still hate me, though, don't you?" 

"Hate's too strong a word," the commander replied. "I try not to hate anyone. Not the Cardassians who destroyed my world, and not even you. But I do violently dislike you." 

"Good," the lieutenant replied, mock relieved, "it would just have been way too creepy if you hadn't at least violently disliked me. If it makes you feel any better, I violently dislike you, too." 

There was a pause. 

"So," Tom continued hesitantly, "you don't think that B'Elanna's right about letting the past lie and all that?" 

"She said that to you, too?" 

"On a regular basis." 

... 

"I don't honestly think that applies to us. I mean, some things..." 

"Yeah, me too." At exactly the same moment, the two men turned to look at each other. When their eyes met, they quickly looked away again, both of them had an amused smile on their face. 

For a time the cavern was silent again--it felt like hours this time--and it wasn't even an altogether uncomfortable silence. When, after a time, Chakotay looked at Paris again, he noticed the man looking down on his sleeping child with a worried frown on his face. 

"She's beautiful," Chakotay began. 

"She is, isn't she?" The pilot's voice sounded strangely pleading. 

And though, frankly, to him the baby looked indistinguishable from most other humanoid babies Chakotay had seen, the commander replied, "Off course. Why do _you_ sound so doubtful, Paris?" 

Once again, Tom frowned. "It's just..." He didn't know if he could do it. Him unburdening his chest to the Indian was simply too absorb. Oh, well--stranger things had happened there in the Delta quadrant. Though not recently. "I'm just worried. I'm going to raise this baby, Chakotay. There's no doubt about that. But... how will B'Elanna take that? I mean, I love that woman and I... I want to marry her--but I don't know how she will take this, and my child comes first. She has to." Tom fell silent. To his astonishment, Chakotay began to laugh. Tom felt a flash of anger, but Chakotay spoke up almost immediately. 

"You're supposed to be the one that never considers the consequences, Paris! Apparently, you just do it when there's absolutely no need!" 

"What do you--?" 

"B'Elanna will love the baby as much as she loves you, Tom," Chakotay continued, "you should know that. No matter how tough she makes herself out to be, I don't doubt that she would--she _will_--make a great mother." 

"Do you really mean that?" Tom asked. 

"Would I lie to make you feel better, Paris?" 

"Point taken." 

Chakotay looked up. "You don't have to take my word for it, though," he said. "Look over there." Tom did, and he saw lights approaching from out of the tunnel. Nervously, he scrambled up to his feet, and Chakotay followed. What sounded like a phaser blasted the narrow opening into the cavern wide open, and a second later, Starfleet officers came pouring through. 

Predictably, B'Elanna was right up front. The half-Klingon saw him and Chakotay, and they shouted each others' names happily. Then Tom saw B'Elanna's eyes trail down to the bundle he was holding, and realised that he would only ever have to worry about one thing: if he let B'Elanna hold the girl, he wouldn't ever get her back. 

* * *

**epilogue**   
Captain's log, supplemental 

In my log of a few months ago, I stated a concern about my crew's ability to provide for a new-born child on the ship. Just to reiterate, my crew, especially Mr Paris and Ms Torres, the parents, are capable and caring people, but the circumstances are just extremely difficult out here in the Delta quadrant. 

I am now pleased to state that my concerns have proven wholly unjustified. My goddaughter couldn't have got a more caring and secure environment. In fact, our desire to give the child a real home to grow up in has made us pull closer together, giving the entire crew a feeling of belonging that we never knew we missed so dearly, before. The crew has been pairing off incredibly, lately, and though there haven't been any more children announced than the Paris and Wildman babies, I am beginning to believe that I'll have my crew to finish this seventy-year journey. 

The Engineering crew has just finished constructing larger quarters to fit Tom, B'Elanna and their daughter last week. Normally, this would have been a job for maintenance, but Sue Nicoletti and the other engineers were so insistent in their demands to be allowed to do it that I just couldn't refuse. 

I called my goddaughter Tom _and_ B'Elanna's daughter. B'Elanna has now officially adopted her as her daughter, judging from the baby's reaction at the ceremony, I believe she couldn't have been more happy if she'd hand-picked her new mother. Actually, the girl already has a temper that makes you wonder if her Cardassian genes aren't really Klingon... Hm... 

Well, I could go on for hours talking about my wonderful goddaughter, but to wrap this log entry up: 

The Delta quadrant has been calm, lately. The Kazon have ceased to bother us, and Voyager has been making good time on her voyage home to the Alpha quadrant. Things have been quiet enough that we have finally managed to complete all priority issues still waiting to be attended to, giving us the time to indulge in personal interests. 

And I swear, if it takes seventy years--if it takes twice that--I _will_ find out what the feud between my first officer and my chief pilot is all about. If it is the _last_ thing I do... 

Oh, end log.   
  
  


FINIS

  
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

Since I claim that Paramount owns Star Trek, Voyager and everything in and on it, I also disclaim any claims I might have on that ship which is way out of this world (and quadrant). But I do claim my right to claim all claims on this story, and I disclaim all claims Paramount might claim on it. By the way, this story is just for fun, not profit etcetera etcetera. I borrowed ensigns Simms and Hudson from the P/T Collective (thank you) and disclaim any rights there are to claim on them. 


End file.
